#and he’s still in the button nose stage

[riverscuomohhh]

Credit: Julie Kramer / kramerstudios

[chastiefoul]

coming home to nanami sleeping on the couch but there it is also, the cat he said he 'tolerated' atop of his chest, folding its legs comfortably like a perfectly adorable loaf.

both of his hands resting snuggly on its body, as if he was hugging it to sleep. (he did)

the biggest grin stretched out across your face, taking your phone out as you went to take many many pictures of them first because it was an overwhemingly cute sight, second... well, you know, just for additional satisfaction points after telling him 'told you so!'

alas, your excited steps in getting the photos of different angles woke the man up, as nanami looked like he was caught red-handed after looking back and forth from the cat to your phone. a smug smile made its way to your lips as you crossed arms with a raised eyebrow.

"she came to me herself after i fell asleep," he reasoned, getting worked up all by himself. "i didn't say anything," you replied with a playful shrug as he sighed, looking over the feline who's still asleep; his body language contradicted his words, moving as slowly as possible as to not disturb its slumber.

"you didn't have to love, your smile already said it all," he said as he finally let out a defeated smile, gently running his hand through the fur of the small animal. you had to swallow a squeal from witnessing such a cute sight.

"ready to be honest and admit that you love her so much and you won't let anything bad happen to her ever?" you asked, a big smile still loyal on your expression. nanami chuckled, "not sure if i am at that stage yet but-" he stopped, booping the cat's button nose.

"she is quite cute sometimes, especially when she's not running around clawing things she finds unpleasant—which are almost everything. a hard cat to please, this one."

oh nanami, with the way he said that, he's way past that stage, you thought.

you looked at the oblivious man, keeping that fact to yourself. "alright, i'll accept that answer for today." you nodded thoughtfully feeling pleased, making your boyfriend laugh at the personality similarities; perhaps that's why he came to love your pet as well. "you too, hm? i guess like mother like daughter."  

[4chensungs]

he’s been living in my head rent free i’m sorry couldn’t help it <3

smut (oral m. receiving)

—

quickie with this jisung when he goes back to backstage after performing.

you watched the performance through the small monitor screen of the room, noticing how hot your boyfriend looks and how he seemed so determined to give his everything on this stage.

he got there breathless, tie hanging loosely around his neck and buttoned up white shirt. black thick framed glasses accentuating his eyes, hair all wet from sweat. god, you’d never seen him more handsome.

jisung came back in a hurry, and you heard the voices of the boys for only a quite second before he entered the small room you were in, sat with your legs crossed on the couch. he opened the door with such force, your eyes drifting immediately to him.

“come here, baby. now.” his voice was raspy, body leaning against the door and head thrown back. you watched him with hungry eyes, getting up and making your way to him.

“not even a “hello”, handsome?”

jisung gave you no reply apart from a smug smirk, and grabbed your waist with both hands - lips crashing onto yours, you could sense his heavy breathing and tongue seeking for entrance.

you hummed on his mouth and he leaned away for a moment, specs already falling to the bridge of his nose, “hi, princess.” he greeted, you giggled and kissed him again.

you felt his hand grip your ass from beneath your skirt as your lips parted and moved together in sync, the squeeze making you move closer to him - your own hands playing with the hair on his nape. his skin felt hot, wet from the sweat.

“what’s got you like this, ji?”

he leaned away once more when you spoke, using a free hand to take his glasses off and throw them near the couch. you almost moaned out loud.

“was thinking about you the whole time on stage.” jisung whispered, and you smiled so hard at his statement that your intrusive thoughts won as your small hands started to unbutton his shirt.

“let me help you relieve some energy.” you kissed and licked his neck slowly, unbuttoning the first three buttons of the white fabric as his hand loosened his blue tie even more.

you went to your knees, looking up at him intensely as he swore, “fuck yeah baby there we go”, he groaned at the gorgeous sight of your body on the floor, cute hands already pulling down his jeans and pretty nails grazing his boxers.

when you pressed a hot kiss to his leaking tip, jisung gripped your hair and used all his strength to pull your face closer to the base of his cock, making you whimper and pout, still maintaining eye contact.

he tapped his dick on your pouting lips, “open, princess. fast.”

oh he was so desperate and aching. you obeyed - mouth opening to take his pink pretty tip first, before his grip on your hair forced your head to bob up and down his whole length.

your saliva was wetting his whole cock, his groans and muffled praises only encouraging you to continue. jisung started to thrust into your mouth, ocasional whimpers leaving your lips from the feeling of him deep down your throat.

he knew you could take this, you always do. that’s why he never hesitates to fuck your mouth. always so eager to suck your boyfriend’s big dick dry, so good to him.

“you know i love you mmgh love you so fucking much” his mouth hanging open, defined eyebrows furrowing absolute lost in pleasure.

ropes of hot cum were released in your mouth, his grip soon left your hair as jisung pumped his cock to let his release slip, coating your lips and chin.

you laughed it off, getting up and smiling at him. he looks in ecstasy, still - you could sense his heart beating faster when you grabbed his neck to pull him into a kiss again, his release now predominant on his taste buds.

“god, you’re the best. I love you.” he let out when trying to catch his lost breath.

“always count on me for that, ji.”

© 4chensungs

[m1ngkis]

Mingi the munch (18+)

A/N: MINORS BE GONE. This will contain oral intercourse in a closet and my man of course. MWAH

Mingi is a munch and I will die on that hill. I can just see him losing himself between your thighs and eating you out until his eyes cross and his tongue goes numb.

He especially likes to do it right before a show. While staff and his other members are bustling around and yelling time checks, all he can think about is getting his mouth on your pussy before he goes on stage.

I want to say he thinks of it almost like a claim like yeah he's about to make 10,000 people scream his name but you're the only one that gets to have him on his knees like that.

He spots you sorting out their clothes for the quick changes just as a staff yells "Ten minutes!"

It's a simple touch to the small of your back but it feels like fire skating up your spine. Your head whips to find him and you barely catch him slip down the hall.

"Can you finish this up for me?" You hand the clothing to your assistant and go for the hallway, the chatter of voices getting quieter the farther you go.

"Mingi?" You call out for him. "We don't have time for this. You need to be with your members."

"I'll be quick, promise." You gasp as he appears behind you, lifting your body and carrying you into a nearby closet.

He doesn't even bother closing the door all the way, letting the light filter inside the small space through the crack. He's on his knees in a second, fiddling with the button of your pants.

"You're gonna get dirty! Get up!"

"You really want to spend the next eight minutes arguing or you want me to make you cum?"

You can see it in his eyes. He needs this. He's tense, anxiety coursing through his nerves. Six years and he's still afraid he won't do well enough.

Your silence gives him his answer as he resumes tugging your clothes down and off. Your hand finds it self in his hair as he kisses your thighs, hiking on up on his shoulder as he nips at your skin.

"Mingi.." You don't mean to rush him but now that he'd gotten you like this, the anticipation was killing you.

"I'm here. Not going anywhere." He mumbles just as his tongue stretches out and licks you up from hole to clit before settling his lips around it, making you shudder.

His tongue swirls around the bud along with the suction of his lips and it sends waves up pleasure to your senses, making your brain fog and your mouth the drop.

As soon as the first moan escapes your mouth, Mingi relaxes. His shoulders drop and his eyes flutter closed as your taste on his tongue takes him to heaven.

You let out a shaky curse when he split you open on two of his fingers, thrusting lazily into you but still hitting the spots he needed to have you shaking and gripping his hair and shoulders.

"Five minutes!" Another staff yells and just as you tense, Mingi groans against your sex, as his tongue and fingers trade places.

He rubs tight circles on your clit and opens his eyes to watch as you fall apart, his name on your lips in harsh whispers as you try not to be heard.

He keeps moaning against your pussy as your juices coat his chin and the tip of his nose. He can feel you getting close. It's in the way your eyes screw shut and your fingers practically grip the hair out of his head. The way your pussy clenches around his tongue so hard it makes his eyes roll back

So even before you let out a breathless, "Fuuck, Mingi!", he's ready to catch your release on his tongue.

"Thank you." He helps you get dressed again as you come down from your high. "Even though it was pretty risky this time."

"Any time, baby." You don't even want to look at him because if the hard on against your belly was anything, you're sure the sparkling in his eyes would have made you drop to your knees right then.

"Showtime everybody! Where's Mingi!? Anybody seen him?"

"You gonna go out like that?" You graze a hand across his boner and he lets out a hiss.

"Yeah..Trust me, fans will like it." He chuckles, before kissing your lips.

"Go be great."

"Always do."

[rosielovesf1]

on the move | LN4

quadrant moving company coming soon

word count: 1k

warnings: none! (but i have not written in toooo long and i have writer's block so please bear with me 😭)

author's note: thank y'all SO MUCH for 100 followers!!! i am on summer holiday so hopefully will be way more frequent with posts than i have been. if you have any story/driver requests, please message me or use the button on my home page :))

Boxes. Everywhere. y/n ran a hand through her hair, sighing at all that still needed to be done. 

Just picture the apartment. Gorgeous with floor to ceiling windows, a spacious kitchen that filled with light in the afternoons. Most of all, the first place that she could truly call her own after graduation- the incredibly rewarding result of balancing a job and uni for the past four years. 

“Baby, do you want your mugs in with the kitchen stuff or the fragiles?” y/n shuffled over to the kitchen from the bedroom, smiling at the sight of her boyfriend on tiptoe, reaching for the top shelf of the cabinets. 

“Need some help with that?” she giggled, wrapping her arms around him from behind and leaving a soft peck on his neck. He groaned but relaxed into her touch. 

“I think-,” He tugged her arm and she moved to stand in front of him, grinning as she met his green eyes. The room seemed to grow hotter as he caged her in between his arms, the cool granite counter biting into her lower back. There was a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver through her body.

“Lan-” The clock was ticking on her move out date, but a twenty minute break wouldn’t do any harm. Maybe they’d even be more efficient after. She wrapped her arms around his neck, lips parted in anticipation. 

“I need-” One of his hands came up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Mmhmm.” The feather light touch was delicious. 

“To stage an intervention. You have so much stuff.” It took her a second to react to the sudden change in mood, a slow grin spreading over his face as he could practically see the gears turning in y/n’s head. He took advantage of the spare moment to nip playfully at her nose, full on laughing when she pushed him back suddenly. 

“I need all my stuff!” y/n protested, crossing her arms defiantly. 

“Baby, you can’t even reach that stuff. It’s just collecting dust up there.” The entire top shelf of the cabinet was cluttered with cups of various shapes and sizes. Some were pretty crystal in pastel colors, others were travel souvenirs sporting slogans like “My friend went to Cancun and all I got is this cup” (yes, there were multiple of those. from the same places.), and there were even a couple that were shaped like animals. The giraffe-shaped ceramic mug had lost its head, and it almost looked a little… phallic… without it. 

“Yes, I can. Watch.” y/n pushed herself onto the counter, taking a moment to steady herself before standing up, now easily at eye level with the cup collection. She smiled triumphantly down at Lando, the moment only dimmed by a sneeze that made her eyes water. Okay, so maybe he had a point about the dust. 

“You’re making me nervous.” He wrapped his hands around y/n’s thighs to steady her, squeezing once to punctuate his words. “Get down, please.” 

She ignored his words and savored the warmth of his touch, reaching for the giraffe mug and grinning at its misshapen appearance. It’d been a souvenir from the zoo when her and her twin brother were children- so well loved that they’d accidentally broken it when deciding who got to take it to uni. 

“Alright, point made.” The reminiscing was interrupted as the world suddenly tilted. She grabbed for the shelf as she leaned forward, Lando gripping her thighs to keep them in place on top of his shoulders.

“Hey! I wasn’t done up there.” She tugged at his curls, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head when he grumbled in protest. “I was thinking of Ratatouille.” 

“That would make you the rat, baby.” That comment earned him a thunk on the head.

Y/n didn’t mind the view from up here- Lando started walking towards the bedroom, where most of what needed to be packed remained. He slowed as they walked through the low door frame, and she smooshed her cheek against his as she leaned down to avoid hitting her head. 

This was the bedroom where she’d studied for her last exams, watched movies with her roommates, even where Lando had taken care of her after a night that was a little too much fun. It was weird to leave it behind, but with her roommates all moved out and the decor taken down, it hardly seemed like the setting of some of her most favorite memories. Lando backed up into the bed, and she fell off his shoulders onto the soft comforter with an oomph. 

“You know…” she said, flipping over onto her stomach. Lando flopped down next to her, humming to tell her to continue. “If you think I should do some decluttering, maybe I should do away with some of my Quadrant hoodies.” 

She’d developed quite a collection over the year they’d been together- one in every design from each drop, and a fair few of Lando’s as well. 

“No. Those stay,” he mumbled, grabbing her around the waist and tickling her across the ribs. She squealed and kicked as she tried to get away from him, eventually straddling him to escape his fingers. 

His eyes raked down her figure at their position, and she just laughed and pushed his face to the side before climbing off. Both staring at the stark white ceiling, she reached to lace her fingers in between his. 

“I’m so excited,” she started, her voice soft. “New apartment, close to my favorite person,” he squeezed her hand at that, “and a new job that I can’t wait to start. I feel like I’m growing up.” 

“I’m so proud of you baby.” They just laid there for a second, savoring each other’s company, watching the dust that almost seemed to sparkle in the late afternoon sunlight. y/n was perfectly content- her favorite person by her side, and a world of new possibilities just days away.

@y/n-l/n is on the move… and all of her mugs are coming with her

@landonorris quadrant moving company coming soon

[hotvintagepoll]

Laurence Olivier and Vivien Leigh (Fire Over England, That Hamilton Woman)—That's a whole lot of beautiful in one on screen couple, and since both were stage actors they played passionate so well

William Powell and Myrna Loy (The Thin Man films)—i know they will have been submitted already but What If They Haven't Been!!!! the screen couple so hot together that people assumed they were married in real life! they match each others snark and dry deliveries SO well, theyre so married i still keep them tucked away in my mind as The Bar of established couples for movies. its also THEIR season rn new years is THE season for the thin man so a vote for loy-powell is a vote for love

This is round 3 of a mini tournament. Each poll lasts for three days. If you'd like to send additional propaganda supporting your favorite hot couple, you can reblog this post with your propaganda added, send it to my asks, or tag me in it. To vote in all the polls, click here. Happy holidays!

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Olivier and Leigh:

Loy and Powell:

William Powell and Myrna Loy from The Thin Man series. Glamorous and witty, with the banter of a will they or won't they couple combined with the mischievous affection of the happily married. And they're detectives!

They're ridiculously in love with each other, genuinely enjoy spending time together, respect each other, and just look at them:

He's dapper! She's gorgeous! Asta is adorable! They're simply the best!

Nick & Nora Charles, my pre-Code LOVES. Wikipedia describes them in one line as a couple who enjoy “copious drinking and flirtatious banter,” and they’re right for that.

Myrna Loy and William Powell, their delight in each other on screen makes me deliriously happy every time I watch them. I’ll even watch the later Thin Man movies, even if they aren’t great, just for those two flirting and smirking knowingly at each other. Watching them as Nick and Nora, you just know those characters really enjoy being with each other more than anyone else.

They had sizzling chemistry, and their real life friendship meant that they actually enjoyed being around each other, and it showed on screen.

I know I'm probably not the only one suggesting them, but I HAVE to nominate my favorite on-screen duo: Myrna Loy and William Powell. The chemistry between them has rarely been equaled; they're like the fun, cool couple that's clearly in love without ever being obnoxious about it. I love all of their movies so much, but my favorites are the Thin Man Series, Libeled Lady, Love Crazy, and I Love You Again. Obviously, I'm not alone, seeing as they had 13 movies together. Also, them+Asta? True double income, no kids goals.

(I know other people will be saying this but One Must Be Sure). MYRNA LOY and WILLIAM POWELL. From The Thin Man (1934), After the Thin Man (1936), and all the other Thin Man movies etc. They're just so into each other in such an equitable way, they push each others buttons and tease each other while drinking like fishes and solving mysteries and it's REALLY HOT. They both always had a twinkle in their eyes and adorably wrinkled their noses at each other.

Myrna Loy and William Powell, who are both life goals and wife goals simultaneously. The ultimate gender envy couple.

[okay-babe]

Saw your Alastor request game and HAD to give it a try

A wholesome “ZIP ME”. Alastor helping with getting ready for the day or assist and just shows appreciation 🥰🥰🥰🥰

In love with you for requesting this prompt because I am in such a fluff writing mood rn <3

(Also for my anons who also requested this prompt, I still plan to write something for those as well, so they should be out before too long!)

Morning Routine

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, extreme levels of fluff, domestic bliss, soft alastor

Throughout your life (and death) you had woken up to many a nice view, from the rivers and lush wetlands of Louisiana to the sight of the city hundreds of feet below you.

And yet, none compared to the view of your beloved when he was half-ready for his day, which was typically the stage at which he woke you from your always deep and well needed slumber.

And today was no different.

Alastor hummed a distantly familiar tune from behind your still sleeping form as he slid in beside you on the bed you shared, body resting atop the covers as he leaned forward to press a kiss behind your ear. In response, you shifted slightly, nose scrunching the smallest bit as your lover's breaths tickled the soft flesh he had so very recently offered his affections to.

Alastor chuckled slightly under his breath at the sight, raising a gloved hand up to the exposed portion of your upper arm to run a feather-light touch down its length, immediately causing you to shiver.

After a few more moments of tickling breaths and nearly fleeting touches, your breathing pattern shifted slightly, eyes blinking open and squinting at the sudden invasion of light that was always there to greet you each morning.

Groaning softly, you were quick to close your eyelids once more, brow furrowed with displeasure at your wakefulness as the Radio Demon laughed beside you.

"Why good morning, dearest, how lovely to see you!"

He teased exuberantly as you huffed in reply, just barely opening your eyes enough to make it obvious that you were glaring at him before closing them once more to yawn.

"Ah ah ah,"

Your lover tutted from beside you, his grin wide and immensely amused as he continued,

"I'm afraid the time for rest is over, my dear. No more exhaustion allowed."

You scoffed in response, only just barely fighting off the urge to flip him off as you sat up slightly, tugging your knees toward your chest and blinking your blurred vision away to the sound of barely moving water and a whispered breeze that always seemed to flow through the far less inhabitable side of the room you and your husband slept in.

Satisfied with your vague efforts to get up for the day, Alastor hummed in contentment, standing just as he always did after waking you so he could continue his typical routine, allowing your hungry eyes to follow him eagerly.

It was like this every morning, and you'd be a fool to believe he didn't know and find some semblance of amusement within it, but even still you couldn't bring yourself to care.

You gained far too much enjoyment from watching your love's lithe and nimble fingers do up the buttons of his shirt and tie the fabric of his bow tie to feel any shame over it.

Or, at least, enough shame to make you stop.

You continued your enraptured staring for several more minutes, eyes trained heavily on the view of the overlord rolling up his sleeves and sliding his belt through the loops of his dress slacks as if he were a modern art exhibit designed to utterly enthrall you.

Your gawking continued all the way up until Alastor turned back toward where you were sitting upon the bed, his head tilted slightly in mock curiosity as he began to approach you once more, donning all but his coat, a sight which made you blush in spite of yourself.

Sure, you had known the demon for an extremely long time and had seen him in far more compromising and promiscuous positions and outfits than this, but still. There was just something about the sight of him, dress shirt sleeves rolled up over his elbows and svelte torso and legs so clearly in view, that made your heart rate quicken inside your chest.

"You're going to be late, you know."

Alastor all but crooned suddenly, snapping you out of your reverie with a few quick blinks and an awkward clear of your throat.

"Huh?"

You asked, sitting up slightly further as your lover began to leisurely unfold the clothing he'd laid out for you at the foot of the bed earlier that morning, no doubt all too aware of how slow you were prone to waking up and hoping to save some time.

The overlord chuckled, a subtle shake of his head highlighting his amusement as he looked in your direction once more, red eyes lingering in a manner that reminded you of just how tremendously the being standing at the end of the bed adored you.

He regarded you with a gentle and exasperated fondness as he replied,

"The reopening is today, dear heart."

He purred, grin as wide as ever as he approached further, extending his hand outward and helping to maneuver you so your legs were hanging off the side of the bed, ignoring the sudden panic in your expression brought on by his words and quickly silencing it before it could be vocalized with a quick press of his lips to yours.

He pulled away slowly afterward, index finger curling beneath your chin and lifting it to ensure you were looking him in the eye,

"And whatever would we do without our darling front desk receptionist there to woo our guests on sight?"

His tone was teasing now, lilting and oh-so amused as he took both of your hands in his and slowly pulled you upward and onto your feet, humming that same distantly familiar tune from earlier all the while.

"Not to worry though."

Alastor continued with a mocking tap of his index finger against the tip of your nose,

"With my help you'll be up and ready with time to spare."

He winked at that, instantly causing you to roll your eyes before knowingly bringing your arms up above your head, causing your love's grin to widen further at your immediate understanding of what was to come.

"Well look at you!"

He cried with feigned surprise and delight as he grasped gently at the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging it upward and over your head with a flourish before he knelt down before you and pulled your underwear downward just the same, his eyes never once leaving yours as he did so.

"You're becoming a regular pro at this, darling."

You scoffed a bit at that, though your lack of exasperation was made clear by the lifted corners of your mouth, never quite able to lay flat with your Alastor around.

Humming a different tune now, the sinner reached behind you on the bed to grasp at a new pair of undergarments for you, holding them open to make them easy to step into before pulling them up and rising with them, laying the fabric flat upon your hips before moving to help you with your bra.

Far too used to this process by now, you simply sighed and let your lover do as he would, your still tired body leaning into his every touch as he ran skilled fingertips up and down your spine and pressed them dexterously into the tense muscles of your shoulders until he felt you were sufficiently relaxed beneath his hands.

Once that was finished, he was quick to have you sit upon the bed, long fingers grabbing at your stockings and garters and bunching them up expertly before sliding them onto your feet and up your soft legs and thighs with ease, though he was notably slower with this task than he'd been with the previous two, taking his time to admire you and allowing his hands to feel your skin before covering it with the fabric in his grasp.

When he was finally satisfied with the state of your stockings, Alastor leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of you with a pleased smile and an ever adoring look in his eye before he placed twin kisses against the skin just above where your garters held your stockings into place, as if in farewell.

It was then and only then, with his desires to admire you satisfied (at least in part) that your beloved grabbed your work attire from the bed. It was something he had chosen for you himself when considering the concept of uniforms, a sweet yet professional looking black dress that you knew from having tried it on a few days prior fit you perfectly, (no doubt because your lover had long since memorized your measurements and given them to the tailor himself).

Pooling the rich fabric at your feet, Alastor looked up at you expectantly, and immediately, you stepped into the middle of it, allowing him to once more pull another garment up your body, rising with it as he had previously with your underwear until your arms were in the sleeves and all there was left to do was zip up the back.

Feeling the cool breeze upon your spine, you shivered slightly, the difference in temperatures striking.

"Al,"

You murmured, adjusting your hair to ensure it wouldn't get in the way of what came next,

"Would you mind?"

Immediately, the overlord was nodding in almost enthusiastic agreement, motioning for you to turn around for him to provide access to the still unzipped portion of your dress.

"Why of course not, dear heart. Let me see."

Blushing at the nickname in spite of it having seen years of persistent use, you did as you were told, turning 180 degrees until you were facing away from your lover, back bared to him so his deft fingers could easily find the gold trimmed zipper there.

Grasping onto the metal between his thumb and forefinger, the demon slowly began to tug it upward with a notable level of patience, his opposite hand moving to your shoulder to push at some of the fabric there until he'd created a patch of bare flesh to press a few soft kisses to, his teeth nipping at you ever so gently from time to time just to make you jump in surprise at the unexpected sensation.

This continued for a few quiet and very much appreciated moments until finally, the overlord moved away with a dramatized sigh, pulling the black fabric of your sleeve back over your shoulder before he finished zipping your dress up the rest of the way.

Hearing your darling take a step back from where he'd been standing just behind you, you were quick to turn around to face him, your smile growing brighter when you saw the immediate fondness and adoration in his eyes, that thinly veiled softness he reserved solely for you so very apparent that it made your heart lurch happily inside of your chest.

"What do you think, Al, am I presentable?"

You asked lightheartedly, giving him a slow spin as if wanting to make sure he saw every possible angle.

Alastor all but scoffed in response, though his eyes betrayed his affections far too obviously, making it easy to tell just how much he was enjoying your slightly slower morning together.

"Don't be silly darling, you're always the belle of the ball."

He teased, reaching out to take one of your hands in his eyes as he spoke, using it to tug you closer until you were nearly chest to chest with him, eyes widened in surprise.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, warm, loving, and slow, before he finally pulled away with a sigh, expression contented and smile exceedingly genuine.

"Come on then, dear."

He said after a moment of silence, stepping away once more to guide you toward the bathroom attached to the room the two of you slept in,

"Let's finish getting you ready before Charlotte sends poor Vagatha after us for being so late."

[kaidabakugou]

y’all already know i need to make it you guy’s problem as well when i’m sick so here you go :)

i love the idea of eijirou threatening you with telling on you to katsuki when you want to ignore your health

just imagine being sick or on the early stages of catching a cold when your nose is congested and you’re sneezing here and there but you have places to be and things to do so you just take some medicine and make your way downstairs to the kitchen where eijirou is making a quick to-go breakfast for you

but once he hears your groggy voice, heavier than your usual morning voice when you have to be out of the house this early, he’s immediately reaching for you and drowning you in questions to figure out what’s wrong

his lips getting all pouty and concern written all over his face when you shrug him off and tell him you’re fine

“morning beautiful”, he chirps as soon as he hears you walk into the kitchen behind him, while he continues to flip and press down on the the grilled cheese on the stove

“morning”, you answer back softly, congestion evident on your voice

“hey what’s wrong?!”, turning to you as he quickly wipes off his hands on a kitchen towel before reaching for you, gently pressing the back of his hands to the sides of your neck and on your forehead to check for a fever

“it’s nothing, just a little congested that’s all”, you say as you reach up to wrap your hands around his wrists while he stares down at you worriedly, feeling the warmth radiating from your palms around him, not boiling hot but warm enough to hint you’re starting to get a fever

“you can’t go out like this”, he finally says after staring you down for a bit

“i have to, i have reports from our last mission that need to get done quickly”, you argue as you make your way around him to grab your lunch bag

“what are you gonna do when kats sees you then?”, he says, eyebrows raised as he crosses his arms against his chest while leaning against the kitchen island

“he won’t, he’ll be out on patrol all day and i clock out before him today so by the time he returns i’ll be gone”

“not if he finds out before that”

“and who’s gonna tell him”, at this point, regardless of how bad you feel, your matching eijirou’s teasing smile as you both taunt back and forth

“listen i need to get to work, whatever you do is on you, okay?” you say as you grab the last of your lunch before giving him a kiss and heading for the door

“oookayy then, whatever you say but don’t say i didn’t warn ya”, he waves you off before going back to the grilled cheese on the stove, one that was made for you but he didn’t worry about it too much considering he waited until he heard your car leave the drive way to quickly reach for his phone and hit the call button, grin on his face since he knew you’d probably be back soon enough to be able to enjoy your breakfast

and he was right, because not even 30 minutes later he could hear your car pull up on the drive way and the sounds of your fuzzy voice accompanied by the angry blonde’s bursting through the front door with you over his shoulder

stomping his way up the stairs as you made eye contact with a laughing eijirou on the couch, flipping him off before you disappeared from his sight

returning a few moments later, this time in your pjs but still over katsuki’s shoulder as he made his way towards the couch to deposit you on eijirou’s lap

“watch her while i’m gone, and don’t let her out of your sight”, katsuki grumbles before sneaking a bite of the grilled cheese waiting for you on the table

“i won’t”, eijirou laughs as he wraps his arms around your center, laughing harder when you glare up at him

pouting at katsuki next when he leans down to give you a kiss

“yeah yeah, glare at me all you want shitty woman, it’s for your own good”

sighing before retuning his kiss, the taste of the grilled cheese on his lips making you forget how annoyed you were as you looked over to grab it, taking a bite out of it as katsuki gives a kiss to eijirou before heading for the door

both of you wishing him a good day before snuggling up to each other on the couch, rolling your eyes at eiji’s smug grin and ignoring the low ‘i told you so’ that followed against your ear

[taintedjeon]

──★ ˙ ̟ 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 - jjk (m)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: rockstar-vocalist!jk x groupie!reader (afab/she/her) 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞: rockstar au 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 18+, smut, porn-with-little-plot 𝐰𝐜: 4.1k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: omg here we go... bigdick!jk, bigsize!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, she isnt bratty but she pushes the right buttons, strong language ie swearing, use of nicknames (princess, babydoll, baby, slut, good girl), now for the gewwwd stuffs ;; kissing, making out, nipple sucking, spit kink, size kink, light petting, reader goes into sub space, choking/asphyxiation, jk has not 1 .... nOT TEW not T H R E E ;; but ✨ fOuR ✨ dick piercings jahsgdfjshdh!!! (1 prince albert n 3 foreskin piercings) — n for the sake of this story he isnt circumcised since plenty of ppl on this app like to make things like that a big deal… if u do; theres the block button ok thank u bye. —the use of piercings for sexual pleasure, multiple orgasms, jk comes inside, unprotected sex, standing sex, dirty talk, fingering (oc receiving), oral (oc receiving), face ridddding, she uses his nose to stimulate.

Backstage of the venue is cold, a juxtaposition to the warmth of the crowd you had been swarmed in moments ago. Now, your body ignites in flames as Jeongguk drags you through the commotion of people; his palm wrapped around your wrist tight. From sound engineers, lighting operators, bodyguards and technicians of all kinds, Jeongguk manages to skillfully weave you both successfully to the end of what felt like a never ending corridor before opening the last door on the left and pulling you inside.

You’re not given enough time to make aware of your surroundings before Jeongguk shakes off his leather jacket and pulls his vintage 1991 Skid Row band shirt over his head in that sexy manner men do — arms crossed, gripping the hem and effortlessly off his body. Removing the shirt messes around with his already sweat soaked mid length bob that he has been growing out. But yet, as the strands fall in disarray over his face, it still manages to make him effortlessly fuckable.

You can’t ignore either his body and the way it bulges in the correct places and curves and dips in the rest. It might have been only six months since you had seen Jeongguk last, but in those six months, he has filled in his body finely — both physically and visually.

Tattoos litter his right arm in pretty shapes, swirls, designs and lettering. Beautiful colours striking against emboldened blacks and whites. He sports two barbells on either side of his chest and you bite your lip as images from the last hook up fills your mind from when you had the opportunity to enjoy them in person.

Jeongguk isn’t oblivious to you taking him in; top to bottom, head to toe, and finally he does something about it. Your back is pushed up against the door and the sound of the lock latching behind you. Jeongguk’s mouth is on yours in an instant, his pillowy lips slightly chapped from the singer being on stage for the last hour and a half but that doesn’t stop you from melting into him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, giving you ample opportunity to deepen the kiss. The metal of the metal hugging is lip is cool against your warm skin. Your tongue runs along the seam of his bottom lip and he grants you access to tangle your tongue with his. The after taste of cheap beer and spearmint gum is welcomed as the pair of you turn the kiss from passionately soft to fierce, a sense of urgency creeping into the mix as you’re both aware that you both need to get off before someone comes searching for Jungkook for his encore set.

“Couldn’t help but notice you starin’ at me through the set,” Jeongguk smirks sexily, knowing he has you exactly where he wants you. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

His hands roam all over your body as he kisses you hard. He starts at your shoulders, swiftly pulling down the thin straps of your tank top past the cups of your white lace bra before tugging the cups and feels as your tits release from the lace.

“M’sure plenty of girls were,” you’re quick to reply, voice airy with lust. 

Jeongguk breaks the kiss, saliva keeping your mouth connected before he snaps it with his deft fingers and then using them to run light, teasing circles over your hardened nipples.

“Maybe, but none that I actually want. Thought you were so fucking pretty…”

You shiver and you know it’s not from the temperature of the chilly room you’re both currently occupying.

Before you’re about to remind Jeongguk about the lack of time you both have, the dull hum of intermission music vibrates the tiny closet and his lips are on your throat and all words die on your tongue as you hiss out in pleasure.

“Sensitive, yeah?” He asks, his breath warm against your skin as he decorates your skin in tiny nips and sucks.

“Oh…yes,” you confirm, your lids fluttering shut as he continues his assault on your neck.

With shaking hands, your arms trail down to the belt loops of his leather pants and you hook your fingers through and use it to your advantage to tug him closer to you. The feeling of Jeongguk grinning against your skin at your obvious desperation for him urges him on. With ease, he slots his thigh in between your legs and uses his stance as an advantage to pry your legs further apart.

Working your own fingers on the heavy buckle of his belt as Jeongguk continues his teasing on your cunt, you manage to pull the leather in between your fingers to open him up. Jeongguk tilts your chin with his palm to continue his assault on your neck and you retaliate by slipping your hand underneath his pants. Your fingers come in contact with his hardened cock and Jeongguk bucks his hips further into your touch.

Your heart thrums against your ribs when you feel his fingers inch their way below the hem of your pleated skirt to press into the warm of your cunt.

“Warm and wet,” he whispers against the shell of your ear; his voice is enough to cause the small hairs on your arms to rise. You don’t stop the whine that falls from your tongue as he presses two digits harder against your pulsing clit. “And so fucking sensitive, just for me, pretty girl.”

You get lost in the sensation of him starting to rub you over the flimsy cloth at your cunt.

All your inhibitions are lost as your want for the vocalist grows. “Jeongguk, please,” you beg for more…beg for him.

“Fuck, yes, plead for me,” Jeongguk almost starts begging with you. “Plead for me just like you did in your videos you dirty girl. You’re so bad, huh? Sending videos of your creamy pussy whilst I’m rehearsing. Tell me, did you satisfy yourself? Or am I just too good at pleasing you?”

“No, Jeongguk, I-nothing c-could ever compare to you at all. I was only mmm-missing you, ahhh,” your voice trails off when you feel his thumb and pointer finger pinch at your clit, lightly twists.” Your body grows hot and electrified, sweat building a glistening sheen on your body at the tirade your body is going through.

It only lasts for the briefest of moments before Jeongguk stops playing with you and instead pulls your thong to the side and tucks it in between the juncture of your groin and thigh before running his fingers between your now exposed folds, feeling how soaked you are and slides a thick finger into your soft core.

“Fuuuuck, you’re treatin’ me fucking good tonight, doll,” his voice rasps and you watch as he sinks to his knees in front of you. With ease, Jeongguk props your leg over his shoulder and buries his head in between your legs and his tongue is quick to drag through your pussy.

“Jeongguk, fuck, ohmygod,” the cry is muffled as he brings a big hand up to your lips and covers your mouth. Your eyes can’t help but roll back as your cunt flutters over the thick, long fingers that help place stars behind your closed eyes.

“M’gonna need you to be quiet, babydoll. I’ve still got more to give you... going to push a couple more fingers in ‘till I’m satisfied, okay?

Jeongguk makes quick work of his tongue on your cunt. A litany of fast strokes, skilled pumps of his tongue in your messy leaky hole and now with the added addition of two more fingers, now counting three. You feel full of him as he preps you for what you hope is yet to come. It’s almost second nature for him to know when to curl his digits inside of you, a skill you’re more than aware has come from the copious amount of women he’s had in his bed. But for tonight, he’s here with you and that’s what’s important. You moan when he gets knuckle deep and causes your breathing to become erratic as both your hands tangle into the messy roots of his shaggy locks.

It’s frightening how fast your orgasm approaches you. It’s almost like he's known your body for years, and in some way, he does. Whenever his band finds their way to your town, the tirade of sexting continues from where it left off from his last visit.

“Yes babydoll, just like that, use me.”

He fucks his fingers into you and his tongue flicks your clit, drinking down your honeyed slickness. You don’t stop your hips from chasing your high, letting your pussy grind further into his face, nudging at his nose and then stopping to fuck yourself on his pretty button feature.

Out of the corner of your eye, you find a mirror tucked away in the corner. With the closest bathed in darkness, you’re unable to see clearly in the mirror, but it’s clear enough that you can make out the both of you — your hips fucking Jeongguk, using your hands to guide him into delicious positions for your tongue.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t realise Jeongguk has removed a hand from your ass, his black chipped nail polished fingernails rakes down the skin of your thigh, hard enough to leave a sting of pleasurable pain as he continues down to the knee over his shoulder.

With shaking legs, your climax reaches its tipping point and you feel yourself come at an impressive force. Your body curls over in euphoria, fingers tightening its hold in his hair as a litter of curses fill the space between you both. Your head rolls back and your eyes tighten as nothing but black and speckles of white fuzzy stars to appear behind your eyes.

Jeongguk stands up, face wet from your cum coating his pretty features and he can’t help but swipe his tongue over his chin, making a scene of tasting the remnants of your arousal that he gave you.

“Aw, did my fingers fuck you dumb, hmm babydoll? Tell me how good it makes you feel,” Jeongguk demands from you as he practically laughs at your disorientation.

It isn’t fair, you’re still trying to come down from such a powerful climax that the best you can offer him is a string of useless babbled broken words.

His laughter continues and embarrassment settles in your chest. Nobody has ever made you come like that with their fingers alone and you’re both well aware of that fact.

“You look so fucking pathetic and pretty for me, pussy stretched over my bare fingers, making the sweetest sounds. Fuck, I should record you and put you on my next record and release it for the world to hear; you’d be my next breaking hit.” Jeongguk admits and lands a slap against your asscheek, the bite of his skin against yours causing you to hiss.

Eventually, you’re able to prop yourself up on your elbows on top of a stack of black equipment boxes that are kept behind the stages and cock your eyebrow up at him.

“Jeongguk, is that the best you’ve got?” You smirk, knowing you’re pouring gasoline all over an already raging fire.

Jeongguk walks towards you and traps you in between his body and the boxes you're using as a support beam. He lifts his hand in the air and the next thing you know, a dim light flicks to life and lights the closest in a warm yellow glow.

You’re able to take in the sight of the man in front of you for the first time since entering together. His once precise eyeliner and eyeshadow is smudged down his cheeks but in a way that makes him look fucking delicious. His chest is heaving with every shallow breath he takes and you’re awestruck at the beauty of him.

“Tell me what you want.” His eyes are darkened with unbridled lust as he wraps his tattooed hand around your throat and squeezes at the sides, watching your eyes roll back. Jeongguk truly does know your body like a well versed chorus and it makes your body thrum with want. “Good girls use their words.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

He towers over you easily as he stares down at you. His thumb glides over your lower lip and you open your mouth at his silent request. A train of spit is released from his mouth as he watches it slowly pool at the back of your mouth. Jeongguk follows his fluid and presses his lips to yours in a languid kiss, his tongue instantly twisting with yours nastily. You’re still able to taste your cum on his tongue and your pussy throbs for more of him.

It’s effortless how he breaks your lewd kiss and is able to manhandle your body, twisting you around so your back is facing him and he kicks apart your feet like he had done earlier.

“How badly do you want me to fuck you?"

You back your ass into the crotch of his leather pants as you feel him rustling behind you to remove his clothing just enough to release his cock. You move your hips against him, feeling his cock in between your asscheeks as you move to sensual rhythm. “So fucking badly. Remind me what your cock feels like.”

He grabs at your arm and pulls it towards his covered cock. You take the hint and wrap your hand around his twitching length, giving him a teasing squeeze when you feel it. You’re back at standing straight and you turn back around to face Jeongguk, peeking down towards cock.

“What is that?”

“This?” he pulls his boxers down by the hem just enough to reveal the blue jewel piercing. “I’m so glad you asked. I did this for you.”

“You got your dick pierced for me?”

He laughs. “No baby,” this time he pulls his black Calvin Kleins to his mid thighs and reveals one by one a new piercing decorated with a different colour gemstone until he reaches his tip, decorated with a prince Albert with pink gemstones on either side of the bar. “I got my dick pierced four times for you. Each one a favourite colour of yours so when I fuck you, you can watch as the colours disappear inside of you.”

Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the thought of how they’re going to feel as he fucks into you and you moan pathetically. You can’t look away from them. The pink prince Albert sits prettily at the top of his cock as a puddle of pearlescent precum allows the pink to look vibrant. Following that are three foreskin piercings, again all different coloured stones locking the metal bars in place. There is a purple set first, a green set in the middle and then your favourite colour at the end, nearing the base of his cock — blue.

He is so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear. “Now, let me use these how they were intended to be fucking used — to feel you wrapping yourself around my cock like an obident slut.” He presses a kiss against your shoulder and manhandles you back in place. “Bend over and spread yourself open,” he growls.

Doing as you’re told, your tits press into the cold metal boxes as you bend yourself to his liking before reaching behind you and spreading your ass open for Jeongguk, displaying your pussy, showing how wet and ready you are for him.

He uses this as an opportunity to bend down to your cunt and spits directly at your hole, watching as you clench around nothing in anticipation for his cock. You looked behind you to see him grab at his cock, lining himself up to your quivering cunt.

“Before I fuck you, there’s one rule you follow,” he groans.

“W-what?” You ask, your breathing all over the place as you wait somehow impatiently for the one thing you have waited six months for.

Jeongguk prods his tip at your entrance and watches as his cum coats your entrance, but never quite pushes himself in yet. “Every inch I fill you with, I want you to count every piercing you feel on my cock—”

“Fuck, Jeongguk!”

“There’s four in total, princess. Once you’ve counted the forth one, then you’ll know you’ve taken all eight inches of me. If you fail to count, I’ll pull out and he can start again until you get it right. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.

Jeongguk places a hand at your hip and lines his cock up to you one more time. Slowly, he eases into you and your head falls forward against the boxes. The feeling of his prince albert piercing intruding your small hole causes goosebumps to rise and your breath to falter.

“Count. I’m not going to tell you again.”

With a shaky voice, you obey. “One.”

He stops for a moment, catching his own breath as the reality of the situation catches up with him as he takes in the fact he is back burying himself in his favourite pussy. Definitely one of the greatest parts of him touring the world is your cunt.

Jeongguk manages to compose himself and ease himself further into you, watching as he’s coming up to the first piercing on his foreskin. Just like the first one, he nuzzles the piercing over your clit and moves his hips in a way where it rubs over your clit. Your fist clenches as you feel him tease you and just as you’re about to urge him to go faster, he finally sinks the second bar into your snug core.

“T-two.”

This time, Jeongguk doesn’t waste any time and continues to sheath himself, feeling you wrapping around him. He can’t see you but he knows by how boneless your body has gone that you’re experiencing a whole new high. Better than any drug could give. He reaches piercing three, the green gem glinting from the small lightbulb above before disappearing fully.

He’s only three piercings in and you feel full already, unsure of how there can be any more of him for you to take. His cockhead already feels as if it’s touching your cervix. You know already that by the time the last cock piercing is in you that your tummy will be bulging from his size.

“Shit, there’s just one more. You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl for me,” Jeongguk purrs his affirmation and you perk up at his approval. “Wan’ you to touch yourself.”

You’re too blissfully fucked out already to be bratty, your mind too far in subspace. Your hand wanders in between your legs, towards your cunt. Pressing two fingers to your clit, you begin to rub in a near perfect circular motion.

“Please, Jeongguk, wanna be your g-good girl,” you hiccup.

Jeongguk uses your distraction as his opportunity to sink the last remaining piercing into your poor pussy, feeling you release more of your honey onto him, helping ease him into you just the way he likes.

Not even your favourite dildo can replicate the feeling that this is giving you right now. You have never felt pleasure like this nor do you think you ever will again until the next time you see him.

“F-four…”

He bends down over you to give you a moment to recuperate. His chest is against your back and he presses a kiss to the back of your head.

“Gukkie, move.”

With both of his hands now situated at either side of your hips, Jeongguk pulls out of you and you're forced to feel the jewellery leaving your cunt before he drills back into you, the metal piercings acting as ridges against your soft walls.

Wails and whimpers fall from your lips like a sinful prayer and right now Jeongguk truly did wish this was something he could record. Not for a record as he previously mentioned but for himself.

“More,” Jeongguk moans at your pleas and thrusts forward roughly.

Your heart beats in overtime to keep up with the excretion that your body is going through, sweat clinging to your skin and eyes rolling backwards as he begins a pace that has you seeing stars. His cock rubs so deliciously at your g-spot, every inch he pulls out of you is covered in a bubbly white consistency of your mixed cum.

“Wish you could see what I see, babydoll. Your cunt is such a perfect fit for my big cock.” He punctuates his words with a slap to your ass as he continues to fuck himself in and out of you at a ruthless pace.

You turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of Jeongguk, and you don’t regret the image. His head is thrown back as he uses one hand to run through the strands of sweat slicked strands from his forehead as they merge together with the hair at the crown of his head. His face has darkened and his eyes are screwed tight in pleasure. You clench your cunt around him, enticing a sinful beautiful moan from him.

“I can take it, Jeongguk! Have always been able to look after you!” Your words aren’t lost on Jeongguk as he chases his high, taking you along for the ride too.

“Jeongguk, please, ohmy—, I’m gonna cum for you,” the words spill from your lips in a high pitched cry as your fingers work once more to rub yourself further to your hight. That’s all Jeongguk needs to hear. He places a hand on the centre of your stomach and the next thing he knows, he’s spilling his own seed into your spent cunt. Ropes of white fill you up and he feels as your stomach bloats just ever so slightly at the load he’s disposed of inside of you.

It doesn’t take you long to feel the frantic burning sensation inside of you snap at the feeling of Jeongguk’s cum filling you up completely before you’re now coming around his cock that is still snuggly stuffed inside of you to the hilt. Your body shakes and your legs are on the verge of giving out at the power of your orgasm that you quickly throw a hand around Jeongguk’s neck to pull at the strands to keep yourself upright.

Time passes as you stand there together, basking in the afterglow of rough sex that has definitely now made him late to the stage for his encore set. It doesn't look like Jeongguk is in any rush to go anywhere though as he whispers quiet little ‘shushes’ in your ear, knowing that you enjoy the little sounds of endearments he feeds you as you come out of your sub space.

Pressed against his soft, warm chest, you're able to hear the beating of his heart under his skin and your mind silently counts in time with every beat. He still has his arm around your waist as both of you still pant from your recent orgasms.

“You should go, Jeongguk, you have a show to finish,” you whisper, knowing he should leave you to finish what he started but you still don’t untangle yourself from his arms.

“I know. But I don’t want this to be the end. Once I get on that stage and finish my set, I’ll be dragged back into a van and taken to the next place when all I want is to be here with you.”

Warmth blossoms over your body at the admission and you can’t help but want more of him too. However, when you both started this, you knew of the implications and the risks.

Jeongguk eventually sits you down and reaches for his discarded band tee and dresses you in it, knowing you’ll keep it until the next time you see each other again. He dresses himself back up, pulling his pants up and redoing the buttons. He picks up the leather jacket and hands it to you with a kiss on top of your forehead.

His lips linger longer than any previous kiss like this he’s given you.

“Jeongguk, please go and finish your set.”

“I’ll see you next time, yeah?” And you nod your confirmation. You’ll always see him again.

He eventually pulls away from you and clicks open the door, slipping out and leaving you in the closest on your own.

“Jeongguk, where the fuck have you been? You’ve kept us waiting!” The voices dissipate the further they walk away. In your hazy, lust clouded mind you decipher that the voices to be his managerial staff or his fellow band members.

You sit by yourself in the small space which now feels too big with just yourself inside. The dull sound of drums and an electric guitar vibrates through the backstage area and you sit in your own company and listen to what you can of the music.

“Until next time.”

© 2023 taintedjeon on tumblr. all rights reserved. nobody has consent to modify, plagiarize and/or repost my content on any social media without my consent. they may also not distribute or translate any work to other site or blogs. anybody found doing so will be permanently blocked and reported.

[run2min]

Girl dad Beomgyu scenarios! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

A/N: I only ever see boy dad beom so I thought I'd bless you all with some girl dad too :)

Warnings: est. relationship, pregnancy and children

wc:

૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა the first cry!

Beomgyu never thought he’d be the type to cry in a hospital room. But when the first wail of his newborn daughter filled the air, he felt a lump in his throat that he couldn’t swallow. His fingers trembled as he reached out, brushing against the tiniest hand he’d ever seen. She was so small, so warm, and so unbelievably beautiful.

“Congratulations, Dad,” the nurse said with a soft smile as she placed the baby into his arms.

Dad.

The word hit him like a punch to the chest. He was a dad now. Choi Beomgyu, the same guy who used to stay up until 4 AM playing video games and eat instant noodles for breakfast, was now responsible for this human life.

He looked down at her, his daughter, swaddled in a soft pink blanket. Her tiny face scrunched up as she yawned, and a small giggle escaped his lips.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, glancing at you—his best friend, the love of his life—who was watching with tired but happy eyes.

“She’s so small,” he whispered, voice shaking as he carefully cradled her.

You chuckled from the hospital bed. “Yeah, most babies are.”

“But… she’s so small.” His heart pounded as he stared at her soft, chubby cheeks, her button nose, the tiny fingers curled into a fist. “What if I break her?”

“You won’t,” you reassured him, eyes soft as you watched him hold her. “She already loves you, Gyu.”

Beomgyu swallowed hard. This wasn’t like performing on stage or cracking jokes in front of a camera. This was real. This was forever.

His daughter yawned in his arms, her little lips smacking together before she nuzzled into his hoodie. And just like that, all the fear melted away.

Then, with the tiniest movement, the baby’s little hand grasped Beomgyu’s pinky finger.

And that was it. Beomgyu was gone.

"I’d die for you,” he whispered.

The baby yawned.

“I swear, I’d give you my entire bank account, my soul, my—”

You laughed. “Beomgyu, she’s two hours old.”

He didn't care, he was hers.

૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა dad reflexes 101!

Before becoming a dad, Beomgyu had always thought "dad reflexes" were just a myth.

Then his daughter turned one.

One evening, he was sitting on the couch, strumming his guitar, when he noticed her wobbling dangerously close to the edge of the coffee table.

Without thinking—without even looking—he flung out an arm and caught the baby mid-fall.

Silence.

You, sitting nearby, blinked. “Did you just—”

Beomgyu stared at his daughter, still dangling in his grasp.

“…Did I just unlock a dad skill?”

You grinned. “I think you did.”

Beomgyu gasped. “Oh my God. Am I a superhero now?”

His daughter simply giggled, clapping her tiny hands.

Beomgyu beamed. “That’s right, princess. Your Appa’s amazing.”

૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა beomgyu's heartbreak!

Beomgyu had been training his daughter for months.

“Say Appa,” he coached daily, pointing to himself. “Aaa-ppa.”

She babbled nonsense in response.

Then one fateful morning, while Beomgyu was scrolling through his phone, she toddled up to you, arms outstretched, and clear as day—

“Mama!”

Silence.

Beomgyu gasped, dramatically clutching his chest. “NOOOO!”

You burst into laughter, scooping her up. “Did you just say Mama?”

She clapped excitedly. “Mama! Mama!”

Beomgyu flopped onto the couch in despair. “I have been betrayed.”

You smirked. “Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time bribing her with snacks, she would’ve picked you first.”

He pouted for hours. But later that night, when he tucked her into bed, she looked up at him with sleepy eyes and whispered—

“Appa.”

And just like that, Beomgyu nearly cried himself to sleep.

might do some more if you all like these !

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Show - Oct 30 - @rosekillermicrofic - 808 words - Warnings: none

“Will you please stop by Spellbinding Sound for me?” Pandora begged as soon as Evan picked up her call.

“‘Hello, Evan, my dearest brother,’” Evan said dryly. “I think you’re supposed to greet me at the very least before asking for a favor.”

Pandora sighed noisily. “I just need a new pack of reeds for my clarinet, and you know which ones to buy.”

Evan sighed back at her. “I suppose it is on the way home. I’ll drop by for you, if you make me dinner.”

“Deal,” Pandora said, hanging up immediately. Evan looked at his phone blankly, offended for a moment, before remembering she was probably in the middle of practicing when she called.

Spellbinding Sound was a small music supply shop that Pandora favored, and Evan had been sent there a few times on errands for her. He usually didn’t mind; the owner, an older man named Albus, was kind and patient. When Evan entered the store, though, he was already helping a customer.

“Would you like me to restring the instrument for you?” Albus was asking the man in front of him. The man was shorter than Evan, with dark, tousled hair and several face piercings: two on his lip, another on his eyebrow, another on his nose, too many to count on both ears. He was wearing a graphic band t-shirt over ripped-up jeans, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder. His bare arms were covered in tattoos, and they continued up his neck and down his hands. Evan found himself wondering where else the man was tattooed.

“No, thanks,” the man said in a smooth voice. “I like to do it myself.”

He picked up his strings, which Evan assumed were for some sort of guitar or bass for his punk band, based on the man’s appearance. The man nearly ran into Evan when he spun around and walked towards the door with a swift gait.

“My bad,” the man said, worrying one of the lip rings between his teeth for a moment. “I’m Barty.”

Confused as to why the man gave his name, Evan responded with his own. “Evan.”

Evan tried to step around Barty, but Barty stepped into his path again.

“You like music?” Barty asked, and before Evan could answer, he continued talking. “You should come to my show. Friday night at the Slytherin Stage. I hope I’ll see you there.”

Evan watched him walk out the door, raising both eyebrows at the man’s gall. Inviting him to a show was one thing, but leaving directly after the invite was just dramatic. Evan shook it off and stepped up to the counter and greeted Albus.

“Does Pandora need new reeds?” Albus asked knowingly, his eyes sparkling. Evan nodded. They chatted amicably while Albus grabbed the reeds for Evan, and processed the payment for them. Soon enough, Evan was on his way home to Pandora.

Evan didn’t even know why he was attending the concert. He wasn’t a punk music person — but something about Barty had made him want to learn more. Maybe it was his overconfidence or attractiveness, but Evan felt compelled to come to his show that evening. He was surprised that attendees were dressed so nicely, and he was glad that he had come directly after work, so he was still wearing his nice work slacks and a button-down shirt. As he took his seat in the audience, in a gorgeous emerald-green auditorium. He was starting to think he had greatly misread the man he’d spoken to, because there was no way he was about to see some sort of punk band performance.

Nerves flew in his stomach as he wondered what he had signed up for, just as the curtains pulled back and revealed an entire full symphony orchestra. Evan scanned the faces of every single person until he found Barty, sitting at the very front left. He was first chair violin, the goddamn concertmaster. Evan had him pegged completely wrong.

To make matters worse, Barty looked even more attractive in the emerald green suit and tie, with his instrument propped on his knee and his bow in his other hand. Evan had been so stupid to assume he played the guitar, when clearly Barty’s body had been made to hold the violin. The conductor raised his hands, and then lovely music filled the auditorium as the orchestra began.

Evan was entranced. He watched Barty throughout the entire performance, never taking his eyes off Barty’s graceful movements. He ended up lingering by the side stage, waiting for Barty after the show. When the man emerged, he looked surprised to see Evan there.

“You came,” he said softly, before seemingly shaking confidence back into himself. “You liked the show, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Evan said. “I really did.”

And then he stepped forward and kissed Barty.

[saberlight1]

— my love, mine all mine, lucy gray baird

pairing(s): lucy gray baird x fem!reader, mentions of coriolanus snow x fem!reader.

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, mentions of ptsd, trauma, angst, possessive!lucy, Y/N usage, slightly mean!lucy, standard ballad of songbirds and snakes warnings.

authors note: boom! another one. i am so happy you all love my writing! keep sending in these requests, y’alls ideas are so cool and i adore reading them. this fic is based off of this request, and i hope you all enjoy it! much love .

masterlist

When your eyes first laid upon Lucy Gray Baird, you were immediately enthralled by her presence. Everyone who had ever gotten the honor to meet her would say the same.

You had grown up in the very same district that her and her family, The Covey, were locked up in after being rounded up by the Peacekeepers. Most people around Twelve talked shit on them for being different, but the thing that drew you in the most to her was the fact that she didn’t give a shit.

She didn’t care what anyone thought, no one in her family did. They loved what they did, and that was singing. You saw this on full display at the Hob, where they performed every other night.

You already knew she was beautiful, but, God, when you saw her on that stage, beaming, you swore Aphrodite was standing before you. Her voice was just as beautiful as her, as she danced around stage, captivating the whole room.

At the end her performance, you snatched a daisy out of someone’s bouquet as you walked by, speed-walking to the corridor you were watching her walk into.

“Lucy Gray!” You called, the girl turning towards your call immediately, a smile still on her face. You held out the flower, a soft smile on your face. “You’re beautiful, as well as your singing.”

She blushed, her laugh coming out. “Why, thank you, darlin’.” She took the daisy, taking it up to her nose to smell. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” You beamed. “It’s a real pleasure to see you and your family around here. You really light it up ‘round here.” You complimented. “Twelve’s a normally dull place, but here.. it’s different.”

“Thank you, truly.” Her hand grabbed yours, squeezing. “I’ll see you around.”

And she kept her word, finding you after her next show to get to know you better.

And just like that, the pair of you were inseparable.

She introduced you to the Covey, and after they learned you had pipes, you were immediately brought into their group. You loved it, it felt as if you had found the people you’d been longing for your whole life.

But you found yourself staring at Lucy Gray for longer than normal, a dopey smile lazily draped across your sun kissed features. It wasn’t until some teasing from CeCe and Billy that you realized that you had feelings for the girl.

“Aye, Y/N, it seems like you got some drool right there…” CeCe teased, a playful smile on his face as they caught you staring at the girl for the 100th time.

Billy butted in from his side. “Yeah, you do. Someone’s fallin’ for the songbird,” He laughed. You rolled your eyes at them, before taking their words into consideration.

Holy fuck, you were falling for her.

I mean, how could you not? She was a beacon of light, her presence alone brighting up every room she walked into to, and she had treated you wonderfully, even going as far to include you with her family.

You were caught up in your love daze, not realizing the crushing realities that came with your feelings. But when you did, it left a sour taste in your mouth.

The butterflies swirling in your abdomen stopped in an instant, replaced with an oozing, grueling feeling of worry. Lucy Gray could find you repulsing— and the whole Covey would leave you as well.

It left you wishing you had a factory reset button to forget your feelings at once.

“Y/N, what’s with the frown?” Lucy Gray suddenly appeared in front of you, her signature smile on her cherry lips.

Your eyes snapped to hers, your nerves only growing. “Oh, nothin’. Just thinkin’.”

She sat down next to you. “Oh, really? Didn’t think you was capable.” She joked, making you lightly shove her with a smile.

Your breath caught in your throat when you realized how close you were to the girl. Her honey eyes stared up into yours, and you struggled to not look at her lips. All you wanted to do was close the space between the pair of you.

But you decided on that day that you would settle for this. After all— having her as a friend was better than nothing.

It wasn’t until the reaping of that year that you decided to throw caution to the wind.

It was the Covey’s first reaping, and it was for the annual 9th Hunger Games. Your nerves always got the best of you during this time of year, but it seemed that you weren’t the only one.

You sat in your room, Lucy Gray sitting at your desk in the corner. She said she was trying to write, but you could tell by the bouncing of her leg and her tense body that it wasn’t going well.

You licked your lips, putting your book aside. “You alright, Gray?”

She turned her head, her eyes meeting yours from over her shoulder. She sighed, turning back to the paper and rubbing her temple. “No,”

You stood up, coming to stand next to her, your hesitant hands rubbing her shoulders, the tense muscles deflating under your touch. “What’s wrong?”

“I.. I just really miss my mama.” She let out a sad breath. “And this reapin’ stuff is got my nerves wrecked.”

“I know the feelin’.” You bitterly chuckled. “You won’t get your name drawn, Lucy, none of you will. Your names are only in their once, your chances are slim. You should be okay. I miss my ma, too. I know it hurts.” You tried your best to calm her.

Her hand came up to grab yours that was resting on her shoulder, lacing your fingers together. “You know, you are about the only good thing in this District,” She smiled up at you, her worry lines faded.

At her words you felt those butterflies return, as your eyes flickered down to her lips, your teeth pulling in your bottom lip as you tried to talk yourself down.

Lucy Gray noticed this, however, and with a smile still plastered on her pretty face, she leaned up ever so slightly and captured your lips with her own. Your eyes widened in surprise, before they fluttered closed, your hands coming up to cup her face.

You let out a happy hum against her lips, the girl standing up to get a better grip on your hips, her lips never leaving yours. When you broke apart for air, a giggle left her slips at the sight of your lips stained with her lipstick.

“I’ve wanted you to do that for so long,” You admitted with a smile.

A smirk grew across her face. “I was waitin’ for you to grow the balls to do it first. Turns out you were too chicken.” She teased, her arms wrapping around your neck as she left small pecks on your lips.

You didn’t even pretend to be offended by her words, instead rolling your eyes playfully before kissing her again.

“Be my girlfriend,” She whispered against your lips. You pulled back slightly at her words, before jumping into her arms.

“Yes, yes.” You chuckled, as the girl hugged you back just as tightly.

That led you to now, where you smiled at the same brunette that was laid in your arms. She was different, anyone who had been what she went through would be, but she was also still your same Lucy Gray in all the best ways.

After you got her back from the games, you vowed to never let her go again. The turmoil you felt in the weeks that she was away from you, not knowing if you’d see her again or not— you never wanted to feel that again. And she felt the same way.

“You got a starin’ problem, girl?” Lucy Gray teased with that southern drawl you loved, seeing that you were lost in thought.

A warm smiled crossed your face at the sound of her voice, your hand going to play with her hair. “If it means I get to look at you, then yes, I do.”

She giggled, snuggling deeper into your arms. “Yeah, yeah, you sap.”

“You love it,”

She rolled her eyes, playfully. “I do,” She looked at you seriously now, leaning up to kiss you softly. You smiled against her lips, the feeling of her expressing her love for you in such an intimate way always making you smile.

You would proudly admit that you were head over heels in love with your girlfriend to anyone. But you knew you couldn’t— hell, the only people that even knew you were together was the Covey and her mentor, Coriolanus Snow. People didn’t seem expect, nor accept your type of love.

She had told him during her time there, during the nights they spent together talking through the cage bars. She talked his ear off about you, a love-sick smile on her face the whole time, the girl forgetting that some people weren’t accepting of your love.

But to her surprise, Coriolanus didn’t care if she was with a girl. In fact, he was thrilled, which confused her to no end. (She didn’t know this, but the only reason he was happy was because he now had something that would fuel her to win.)

You thanked every star above for the Snow boy for bringing your girl back to you, even if she was brought back with sharper edges. You didn’t care, you had her back in your arms. And you wanted to thank him.

But, Lucy Gray was a different girl than what she was when she left, even if she tried to pretend that wasn’t the case. She was more paranoid, more protective of the people she loved— especially you. More than you anticipated.

So the next morning when you set out to find the boy who was currently serving time as a Peacekeeper in your very district, the one goal in your mind was to thank him, the thought that this might be upsetting to your girlfriend not even crossing your temple.

You decided to bring him a rose— Lucy Gray mentioning to you that his Grandmother grew them, and you just happened to as well. It wasn’t like the pure ones his Grandmother grew in the Capitol, but you deemed it good enough.

You caught a glimpse of his platinum buzzcut, a smile growing over your ruby red lips. “Snow!” You called, jogging up to him in your cowboy boots. He turned at the call, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw it was you.

“Y/N?” He questioned.

“Hey, Coriolanus.” You smiled, holding out the rose for him. “Lucy Gray mentioned something about your Grandmother and roses, and just as a thanks for you bringin’ her back to me, I’d like to give you this,” You motioned to the rose.

To your delight, his hard face warped into that of a smile. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly.” His hand came out to squeeze your forearm affectionately. “I appreciate it, and you don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I do.” You assured him. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t get her back. You saved her… so, truly, thank you, Coriolanus. I mean it.” You felt eyes on you, but you shook the feeling off.

He nodded sheepishly, not used to the type of compliment you were giving him. “Of course.. Thank you for the rose. Let me know if you need anything, I’ll see you around.” He smiled, giving your forearm one last squeeze before he turned.

“You’re welcome, Coryo.” You flashed him one last smile before you turned on your heel yourself. What you didn’t expect to see was to see those honey eyes you loved staring daggers at you.

You cocked your head to the side as she began to stomp her way towards you. Once she reached you, she grabbed your wrist with a hard grip, and without word dragged you back to your now shared home.

“Lucy, what’re you doing?” You asked, just as your neared the front lawn of your home.

She clicked her tongue, a sign she was mad, and shook her head, continuing to lead you to the house in silence. Once the pair of you got in, she threw her bag on your shared bed, crossing her arms.

“What the hell was that?” She asked, her tone hard.

“What are you talkin’ about, Lucy?” You asked, stepping closer to her. She only backed away, her head shaking once again, while you visibly shrank at her rejection.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You know better,” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I been runnin’ around, lookin’ for you like some fool, while you were off with my mentor, lettin’ him touch you. Why were you with him, huh?” She pressed. “What, you think I’m stupid or somethin’?”

“Coriolanus?” Your eyebrows furrowed, still not quite catching on to what she was so angry about.

“Yes, damnit, him.” Her voice slightly raised as she walked up to you, her gaze lowered as she glared at you. “Why were you givin��� him a rose, huh? Why were his hands on you?”

You licked your lips as you took in her state. Her pupils were blown out, her jaw slack— God, she looked so hot when she was angry. You shook your head at your thoughts, trying to be serious.

“Aye!” Her fingers snapped in front of your face, angrily. “Answer me,”

“Lucy, I— I was goin’ to thank him..” You whispered, your voice dying in your throat as you submitted to her fiery gaze.

“Why?” Her voice was low and raspy, sending shivers down your spine.

“For bringin’ you back t’me.” You admitted, looking at the floor guiltily as it sunk in that how much you truly had upset her. “I never got the chance to properly thank him, and you said he liked roses. So I brought him one, I thought it would remind him of home. I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear,”

Her eyes softened. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry..” She whispered, one hand coming up to cup your jaw, rubbing softly. “I.. My mind went somewhere completely different when I saw him touchin’ you.. It just made me angry,”

A sly smirk came over your features. “I think you mean jealous, Lucy Gray.” You whispered teasingly.

“Only you could make me this crazy,” She smiled. “But, I am sorry.” She said, guilt swirling in her eyes.

“Hey, it’s alright.” You reassured her, seeing that she was beating herself up. “Even I get a little jealous seein’ Billy drape hisself on you when he’s shitfaced, it’s normal, baby, I ain’t mad.” Your goofy smile mixed with your southern accent making her smile come back.

But just as it returned, it was replaced with a serious look. “Just.. stay away from him, alright? I don’t fully trust ‘em.”

“I won’t go near him again, I promise. I just wanted him to know I was thankful for bringin’ my best girl back t’me,” You tried to cheer her up, your lips ghosting over hers.

“Good. ‘Cause your mine,” She smirked, closing the space between the two of you as her lips kissed you hard, her teeth nipping your bottom lip as you let out a gasp, granting her access to your mouth as she deepened the kiss.

You smiled against her lips, thanking the stars above that you had the pleasure of being hers.

[sissylittlefeather]

Ficmas song request: Just a little bit

I am looking forward to ficmas you are my favorite writer. Thank you for writing!

12 Days of Ficmas

Day 4: Just a Little Bit

A/N: Omg, thank you so much!!! I'm sorry this is late! My house is a shit show right now with me sick, both kids sick, and the dog sick, all of us with different maladies. However, I hope you enjoy this one!

Special shout out to @ccab for coming up with the idea for this one!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, cussing, kissing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, ejaculation

Word count: ~1.4k

You've always been good with your hands. You have nimble little fingers that work quickly over the articles of clothing you handle. And your attention to detail is unmatched. You can spot a missing button from a mile away. That's how you got this job tending to Elvis's jumpsuits. Someone else designs them and makes them and another person cleans them, but you take care of them, sewing on pieces that have fallen off, patching tears, and keeping them looking their best.

It didn't take him long to notice you. The first time you were called in to mend one while he was wearing it, he flirted with you shamelessly. The next night, he faked needing you to tie his macrame belt and that became your job any time he wore one. You swore he was purposely ripping the brocade off just so you'd have to take fabric glue to his chest before he went on stage.

You've untangled fringe, reattached beads, sewn on conchos, and fixed eyelets all while he's wearing the jumpsuits. He somehow always seems to damage them just by putting them on. You have a sneaking suspicion this is a ploy to get you to his dressing room, but you'd never say that. Instead, you take your little tackle box of supplies and patch him up however he needs. He greets you the same way every time, calling you “Little Bit” because you deal with the little bits on his suits. You've fallen into a kind of routine with him before every show and it's fun and comfortable. He breaks something, you show up, he hollers “Little Bit!” and flirts with you while you fix him up, then he kisses your cheek and heads out to the stage.

But it catches you off guard when you get a call to come to his dressing room after the show. Still, you grab your box of bits and make your way to him.

“Little Bit! Thank God.” He dismisses all the other people in the room, leaving you alone with him.

“You called for me?” Despite the weeks of flirting, you still get a little nervous around him.

“I did. I need help.” You walk over to him and set your box on the table, opening it.

“What seems to be the trouble?” He smiles slyly.

“Can't get my zipper undone.” You look up at him quickly.

“You… can't…”

“The zipper is stuck. C’mere.” He gestures for you to come closer, so you do. Then, he makes a big show of trying to undo the zipper, but it doesn't budge. “See?”

“This is not really… I don't think I can…”

“Oh, come on, with your little fingers? I bet you can.” Your hands shake a bit, but you reach out and try the zipper. Sure enough, it's stuck. You tug a little harder, but it doesn't move.

“Hm.” You keep trying, but after a few minutes, he covers your hands with one of his big ones. When you look up at him, he puts his other hand on the side of your face.

“You sure are a pretty little thing, Little Bit.”

“Oh, um, thank you.”

“Can I kiss you a little bit, Little Bit?” His smirk gives away how pleased he is with his joke. You swallow hard, not sure what to say. He runs his thumb over your lips. “Just a little bit.”

Finally, you nod and close your eyes. He smiles and leans in, pressing his mouth to yours tenderly. Your eyes flutter open as he pulls back.

“See, now, that wasn't so bad, was it? Close your eyes. I'm gonna do it again.” You do as you're told without hesitation. This time he starts at your forehead, presses his lips to each eyelid and cheek, then your nose and chin, and lands at your mouth again. He hovers with his nose touching yours. “Little bit more this time.”

When he kisses you again, he parts his lips and teases yours with his tongue, waiting to be granted entry. You open your mouth and he pushes past your lips, sending his tongue in to tangle with yours. As the kiss deepens, he moves his other hand to the small of your back and pulls your hips into his. You feel his hard length where it pokes you, straining against the fabric of his jumpsuit.

“I'd love to touch you a little bit?” He says it like a question, but his hands are already roaming all over your body. “This okay, Little Bit?”

“Yes.” You whimper breathlessly.

“Little more.” He kisses down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. You're wearing a button-down shirt that he rips open, sending the buttons flying around the room. You gasp as his kisses continue down your body and he pushes your shirt off. He slips one bra strap off your shoulder, exposing your breast to him. “Gonna taste you a little bit.”

You moan softly as he runs his tongue around your nipple and then pulls it into his mouth. He eventually just takes your bra off, pulling back to admire your chest.

“Not so little.” He chuckles, taking both of your breasts in his hands and squeezing gently. His hands slide around your back and down into your slacks to grab your ass. He pulls you in hard against him, grinding his hard-on into you and whispering in your ear. “Wanna fuck you, Little Bit.”

“Just a little bit?” You whimper as he pushes your pants and underwear to the ground.

“No, Little Bit. I wanna fuck you a lot.” He reaches up to unzip his jumpsuit as he kisses you hard, but the zipper is still stuck. “This fuckin’ thing.”

He pulls on it, but it's not moving at all. Without thinking, you turn back to your box and grab a pair of scissors. You both know that the maker of the jumpsuit is gonna kill you, but right now in this moment you do not care at all and neither does he. He inhales to give you room and you slide the scissors in and start to cut. After a few seconds, he decides you're taking too long and just rips it open, frantically pulling it off of his shoulders and down with his mouth pressed to yours wildly.

As soon as he's free of it, he turns you around, bending you over the small table. He uses one hand to guide the tip of his cock to your entrance and the other to steady your hips.

“So good and wet for me, Little Bit.” He coos as he slowly starts to push into you from behind. You moan as he fills you up, holding both of your hips as he bottoms out inside you. “Fuck.”

And then he pulls back and fills you again, picking up a steady rhythm of pounding you with his cock. Your eyes cross and you whimper while he slams into you over and over again. He stands you up and kisses the back of your neck and shoulder as he fucks you, his cadence getting more and more erratic. You get louder and louder with each thrust as your own climax approaches. He feels your walls start to squeeze and flutter, so he slips his hand around you to rub your clit while he hits your g-spot relentlessly.

“Come on, Little Bit, cum for me baby.” He grunts, trying to hold off his orgasm.

“Just a… little bit… more… oh fuck!” You yell and grab onto the table as you cum, your release washing over you as your body pulses and throbs around him. He manages to pound you just long enough to get you through before he pulls out and pumps himself with his hand, shooting spurts of cum on your ass. After you catch your breath, you hand him your shirt and he uses that to wipe you clean before stumbling backwards to the small couch. He pulls you with him and you settle onto his shoulder. As you sit there, he starts to laugh.

“That suit is ruined.”

“Little bit.” You giggle and he kisses your forehead. “So is my shirt.”

“You can have one of mine.”

“Oh yeah? You like the idea of me wearing your clothes?”

“Little Bit, I like the idea of you. What you're wearing is irrelevant.” He pulls your fingers to his mouth and presses his lips to them. You sit there for a bit longer before you sigh, looking around the room at the mess you made and whispering.

“Well, that was unexpected.” He chuckles.

“Little bit…”

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley

[child0feden]

OH MY DARLING

peter steele x reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter

♡ general headcanons for peter as a girl dad!

୨୧ the most adorable request ever, love it and i hope you love this anon! i gave the daughter a name but it isn’t a major thing at all so you could imagine to be something else and the walking dead game brainrot is kind of heavy lol, sweetpea is just such a cute nickname so i ripped it <3

♡ requested by anon | view my metal masterlist here

reading music recommendations: ecstasy by crooked still - apple by cibo matto

♡ i feel like your daughter would be a carbon copy of peter!

୨୧ she has his deep green eye colour, his raven black hair and so on! she probably only inherited very small features from you but peter says he sees them very clearly in her

♡ the only thing she didn’t get from him is his height and build… i mean obviously, because she’s just a baby and all but even still, she’s super small, even for a child

୨୧ she’s the shortest in her daycare and just has the most adorable little features on her face!

♡ her tiny little button nose is your and peters favourite, both of you always place kisses on her nose, ever since she was a newborn

୨୧ maybe it’s just because i’ve been replaying the walking dead and just adore clementine so much but i can see you guys naming your daughter clementine! it’s just such a cute name

♡ peter would sing “ oh my darling clementine ” to her all the time when she woke up crying as a newborn and it just kind of stuck as she grew up

୨୧ whenever she has a bad dream as a toddler and needs help getting back to sleep, he’ll kneel next to her bed and stroke her hair whilst quietly singing the song in his deep voice as you watch lovingly from the doorway

♡ when he’s not singing her to sleep, he’s telling her a custom fairytale!

୨୧ he used to read ones from books for her but she never liked them too much, she’s super creative and original like her father, so she always thought they were just kind of boring and always the same

♡ so now, peter makes his own up as he goes! usually fairytales about vampires and other gothic things but she loves them

୨୧ she’s a total daddy’s girl! the second she was placed in his arms after being born, you could see they would share something special

♡ as a newborn, she’d cry for so long until peter took her into his arms! she would calm down a little with you but she would only fully stop crying when you handed her over to her papa and he rocked her tiny body in his big arms whilst he softly shushed her and leaned his head down to give her eskimo kisses

“ you’re okay, sweetpea… nothings wrong, see? papa’s got you, you’re okay… it’s okay ” ( her crying draws to a stop almost immediately as your mouth drops open in shock, peter simply throwing you a cheeky wink before cooing down at his little girl and giving her his finger to hold )

୨୧ whenever peter holds her in his arms, she almost doesn’t look real! ever since she was a baby, she looks more like a little porcelain doll rather than a real child due to their major difference in size and build

♡ but it’s so so so cute! he loves holding her because she’s just lighter than a feather to him

୨୧ she especially loves being placed on his shoulders because she says it makes her feel like a princess riding a big horse or tamed dragon

♡ taking her to type o negative concerts is always a trip! people backstage will immediately know who she’s related to the second they lay eyes on her, connecting her to the frontman within a split second due to how much she resembles peter

୨୧ you’ll often stand to the side of the stage, backstage and protected, your daughter held on your hip with soundproof headphones placed over her small and sensitive ears and yet she’ll still softly bob her head to the extremely muffled music making it through

♡ peter will usually dedicate a song to her, often her favourite one or one he wrote for her, and blow a kiss to the both of you as she catches it in her small hand and excitedly waves to him with a cheeky smile on her face

୨୧ speaking of a song he wrote for her, he absolutely has at least one song wrote about and for her!

♡ he probably wrote it when she was a newborn, during one of the many early nights where he had been awoken by her high pitched cries and went to comfort her whilst making sure you got your well deserved rest

୨୧ he wrote it on a notepad whilst sitting in a chair in her nursery after putting her back to sleep, looking up from the notepad every couple of minutes to admire his baby girl as she slept peacefully in her crib

♡ yeah, his perfect little girl was the most deserving of a song in her name

୨୧ he’ll always make sure that the backstage staff have juice boxes and snacks for her too! it’s the thing at the very top of the list for essentials that the band will need for a show

♡ peter will absolutely let your daughter colour in his tattoos if she wanted to!

୨୧ you’ll probably be cuddled up on the couch watching a movie or something and she’ll come running up to you two with a box of coloured markers, speaking in a rushed and excited tone whilst climbing up onto the couch, with a lot of help from her papa

♡ both you and peter give a laugh at how excited she is before peter gently ruffles her hair, letting her take his arm onto her lap and start colouring, admiring her with a loving look in his eyes

“ hm? oh! ‘s looking good, sweetpea! wow, look at that, you’ve stayed in the lines so well! ” ( she really hasn’t but it’s his baby girl, she can do no wrong )

୨୧ to be honest, he’d probably get a tattoo of one of her drawings!

♡ he’d give her a piece of paper and tell her to draw something cool and pretty before giving a piece to you too, asking you to write your name and get her to write her own when she’s done with her drawing

୨୧ within the week, peter has a messy dragon doodle and your and her name tattooed on his body, her name being a mere cute little chicken scrawl

♡ your daughter loves trying to scare her papa, always creeping up behind him whilst he writes some lyrics on a notepad or jumping out from behind a curtain as he walks by

୨୧ but of course, it never actually scares peter… he heard her tiny shoes tapping against the floor as she crept up behind him and her muffled giggles as she tried to hide them behind her hand

♡ and of course, he saw her outline behind the curtain and her fluffy socked feet were completely uncovered

୨୧ but he makes sure she doesn’t know that, he always puts on a spooked face and an over exaggerated gasp before kneeling down slightly and taking her into his arms as she giggles up a storm, proclaiming how she got him

“ you sure did get me, sweetpea! how didn’t i hear you, huh? you must’ve been floating like a ghost! my little ghost, hm? ” ( is lying really all that bad if it makes his baby girl show him that bright, beautiful little smile? )

♡ peter will always let her play with his hair!

୨୧ she wants to decorate it with an assortment of “ girly ” clips? go for it! he has no problem with it at all, he’ll sit on the floor in front of the couch whilst she sits on it behind him, so that there isn’t a major difference in height

♡ you and your daughter both love making his hair “ pretty ” and peter just loves seeing a smile on both of your faces, you’ll help her pick the prettiest clips and share beaming smiles with peter <3

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #7] Sex With An Ex

warnings: sad girl hours!! backstory!! wahoo!! reader gets a nickname (byeol (means star in korean)). enter stage left: KIM SEOKJIN. no smut but references back to things said mid-shag. first mention of jk’s lip ring flipping (i think (first of MANY)). very emotionally hurt reader :(

soundtrack:don’t know how to keep loving you - julia jacklin; 3:00 am - finding hope; blender - 5sos

wc: 6k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

A frigid early morning breeze dances around Jeongguk's bare legs. The hairs stand on end, in protest of the fact he's elected to wait downstairs by the entrance of his apartment.

He knows you're in a taxi - had sent you his address, and had been sent a message back a few moments later saying 'omw', but he isn't sure if you remember which floor he's on, nor which apartment is his. It's almost as if he didn't put a decal sticker that resembles Iron Man's Arc Reactor on their doorbell.

Jimin is yet to notice it.

You had giggled, still tipsy, when you'd spotted it on the night that Jimin had taken you back to their place, but can barely remember it, now.

And so, Jeongguk waits for you in the cold, hands bunched into the pockets of his shorts, a white shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, which are slightly hunched over. He's trying to preserve heat. Wishes he was wearing socks. Will blame you if he gets sick.

Yet when your taxi rolls up - and he's squinting from the headlights, eyes a little puffy from his lack of sleep - he knows that you're not in the mood to be blamed for anything. There seems like there's a weight on your shoulders as you thank your driver, making sure the door is shut before turning to face Jeongguk.

Posture sloped, you don't carry yourself like you usually do. Normally spritely, you seem quite the opposite now.

Your lips are thin as you smile.

He reciprocates a similar countenance, his lip ring flipping up ever so gently as he does it. There's something sweet about it, and it always makes you feel a little warm, normally, but you can't bring yourself to be endeared by it right now.

He walks to meet you - just a few steps across the ground floor parking lot - and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Doesn't let the hug linger for too long. Isn't entirely certain it won't make you cry.

"You're missing your disco, Byeol," Jeongguk says tenderly as he looks down at you, taking note of the fact you're without your signature makeup. He's so close he can count your lashes, and not a single one has a trace of glitter. You ignore the connotations of how he replaces ball with byeol. You're not sure how deliberate it is.

A familiar heat tickles at your lash line. With a sigh, you shrug. Look down at Jeongguk's hands, which are picking loose hairs from your shirt.

They're so acquainted with you now that you notice a graze on his finger that wasn't there the last time you'd hung out. Wonder how he got it. Hope he's okay, and that it didn't hurt. It's just a scrape from an awkward bottle cap. Nothing to worry about.

When your eyes finally meet his, you're surprised by how brutal his stare is. Eyes dark, there's no stars in them. His sharp jaw seems particularly tense, nose pointed and dewy beneath the moonlight. Behind him, the lobby light cuts out.

He swallows, dropping his hands from your shirt as his body turns to set the motion detector off again.

"Can we go inside?" you ask, quiet as a mouse.

Jeongguk doesn't understand why you're being so timid with him. He's not a fucking cat. You aren't his prey.

He just nods, though. "Of course."

The shrill beep of his entryway door code being punched in makes you feel like heaving. Everything is a little too much - which is why, when Jeongguk presses the button for the elevator, you ask if you can take the stairs instead.

"Sure," he says, a little taken aback. He normally takes the stairs himself, but thought you wouldn't want to walk up twelve flights of stairs. "We're pretty high up."

"S'fine," you say as you head towards the staircase. It's dimly lit, motion sensor lights flickering alight as you approach them. "Need the walk."

He chooses not to engage in conversation. Your words feel coded, and he isn't sure he's able to decipher them. Doesn't wanna risk saying the wrong thing when you're in a mood that feels so unfamiliar to him.

He's seen grouchy. Seen you unhappy. This isn't like that.

This is something different entirely.

He doesn't speak until you're on the staircase that exits on his floor, but his tone is gentle. "This one."

You nod, as if you knew.

Truth is you didn't. In fact, you kind of wish he'd just let you walk up to the roof. It'd be impossible to see the stars this close to the heart of the city, but at least you could pretend that the planes were cosmic calamities; shooting stars to make new wishes upon.

The lead is taken by Jeongguk until you reach his apartment.

He tells you Jimin is asleep, but that his room is at the opposite end of the apartment, so you can talk in there. He takes your silence as agreement, and holds the door open for you.

Shoes off by the entrance, he rests his palm on the top of your back to guide you through the dark apartment. It's how you remember it, the only difference is that Jeongguk's wearing a shirt this time.

When you reach his bedroom door, he pauses.

"If you say one mean thing about my sculpture collection, I'm throwing you out the window," he whispers, which does admittedly make a laugh stammer in your chest.

Makes you curious, too.

Hadn't envisaged him as a fine art type of guy.

He'd look good in your cafe, you think, in the corner with the clay, dried grey specs on his honey skin. You'd give him the olive-coloured apron, if he ever visited, because you think it'd suit him. Would watch with a lazy grin from the counter as he got to work on his project. Would sit with him during his breaks and colour in his tattoos with posca pens. Would be nice, you think.

But those thoughts are washed away like heat in a summer rain when his door opens and you see what he really means.

You don't mean it to be, but the laugh you let out is so fucking obnoxious. Jeongguk's hands go to shush you, one on the back of your head, the other over your mouth - but he's giggling, too.

"I told you not to be mean!"

You can feel him grin against your hair, keeping close so that he can keep his voice down. He doubts Jimin will stir, but it's worth it to hear your happiness. Jeongguk loosens his grip on you, turning back to click his door shut, and lets you meander over to his collection of-

"These are action figures, Gguk."

"They're sculptures."

"Toys."

"Collectibles."

"Collectible toys."

He purses his lips as you turn around to look at him. His arms are folded, nose a little scrunched, desperately not wanting to admit defeat.

"Look, they're really fucking expensive!"

And then you're laughing again, at how bloody ridiculous he is.

It somehow comes as no surprise that Jeongguk would have comic book figurines in perspex boxes, neatly stacked like a museum exhibition in the corner of his bedroom - just like it makes perfect sense that there's a chess set next to a computer that looks like it's worth your monthly salary.

"Can I-?" You cut yourself off as you gesture around the room.

"Go for it," Jeongguk says as he takes a seat on his bed, letting you wonder freely, taking in all that he is. He thinks you need a distraction, and he's to provide that. Knows you'd do the same if roles were reversed. In fact, it gets him wondering what your bedroom is like. He'll consider the what-ifs later. Too busy watching you, now.

A reed diffuser sits atop a pile of unread books on his bedside table - ones he swears to Namjoon that he'll read, but never seems to get around to doing so. The scent is black cherry, but there's another on the far side of the room which is fresh cotton. Nothing is ever entirely straightforward with him, but it's kind of why you like his company.

"This one is good," you muse, tapping the spine of one of your favourites - Cho Nam-Joo's Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982. You've the same book on your shelf at home. There are a few you don't recognise, so make a note to ask him about those another time.

His bed is made, but it's just as ruffled as his dark hair, which sticks out a little on end. You meet his eyes as you scan the room, and find that there's a small smile on his lips. You reciprocate it, hoping it's enough to distract him from the fact you're not quite yourself.

"Wanna sit?" he asks, knocking his head to the space beside him.

You don't think you do. You don't want to really be close to another person, not physically.

Something about him makes it hard to refuse such an offer, though. You find yourself nodding, even when you don't mean to.

He shuffles a little further up his bed, falling down onto his back to stare at his ceiling again. His legs hang off the side of his bed, hands intertwined across his chest.

You follow suit. Legs up, knees bent, feet by your ass, you copy his hands as you stare at his ceiling, too. Above you, his origami birds flutter gently in the aircon breeze.

"You make them?"

"Mhmm."

"They're pretty."

"Pretty lame," he snorts, very much aware that it's not the coolest thing to have in your bedroom as a twenty-five year old man, almost forgetting his glorified doll collection.

His sheets are soft, but there's still a slight crinkle as he turns his head to look at you. Though you feel his gaze, you don't look back.

"No disco balls tonight?"

The question is expressed so tenderly that you can't help but swallow back the flounder in your diaphragm. Your head slowly shakes, but you're still looking up at the birds. Part of you hates that he associates you so damn closely with that fucking glitter. Part of you quite likes it, too. Makes you feel seen. Makes you feel vulnerable.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Just 'cause," you whisper, not intending on giving an answer of substance - but you're upset, and it's a topic of contention that has been eating away at you for so long now that you can't help yourself from biting a little bit. "Sometimes it's just not very mature."

Jeongguk snorts. "You're talking to the guy with a figurine collection."

And then you're smiling, because his self-awareness is not only refreshing but incredibly endearing. He doesn't take himself seriously, and it's why you like his company. One of the reasons, at least.

But then you're thinking about how nice it is to laugh with someone for the simplicity of feeling a shared happiness, and you can't help but let the truth slip out.

"I used to date a guy," your voice lingers on your words, before you sigh and continue. "And he was so cool, yanno? So smart, and mature-"

The emphasis on the word, and the fact you're repeating it, tells Jeongguk all he needs to know about exactly what's happened tonight. Not once have you ever cared for looking older than you are, content with having fun thanks to the freedom of your twenties. In the time that he's known you, the topic of maturity has only ever been mentioned when you berate each other for being stupid.

Your compulsion to seem mature now is telling. He knows where you've been. Who you've been with, even if he doesn't know exactly who he is.

"- and he was just... you know people who have shit figured out? He's like that. He's older. Wiser." You pause, but Jeongguk lets you keep talking. His eyes are on the ceiling now, too. "Anyways, glitter annoys him. Gets on his clothes and then apparently it's a bitch to get out but I'm so used to it that I never notice it-"

"It's not a bitch to get out."

"And like, he's just, mature, yanno?"

"Yeah, you said that."

"So," you shrug your shoulders into the mattress. "He doesn't like glitter."

There's silence as Jeongguk thinks about what the fuck he's supposed to say to that.

In his eyes, you are glitter. Called you Byeol earlier 'cause you remind him of fucking stars. Feels a bit stupid for it now, but he's hoping you misheard.

He has to bite on his cheeks to stop himself from saying some scathing remark. 'So he doesn't like you, then?' reverberates in his head. It's harsh, he knows, but he wants to say it because he wants you to realise how terrible it is to change yourself for someone like that. And for what? It obviously didn't go well if you've ended up here.

But you are here. And he knows he's right - things can't have gone well. You're probably already feeling like shit, and who is he to make you feel even worse?

He can't be putting you through the wringer like that, but he's perplexed at the idea of you being so invested in someone who is quite clearly unbelievably wrong for you.

He's been in your position before.

Knows that him being a prick will only cause more damage.

And so he's kind, instead.

"I think it suits you," he says. "The glitter, I mean. You look fine without it, but it does really suit you."

You lean your head to the side, trying to get a read on his face. He just keeps on looking at the birds.

There's a harshness to the shadows on his face, painting him in greys. You don't realise it, but you're just the same - shrouded in the darkness of the night. His bedroom curtains are open, but the city lights aren't that bright at this time in the morning. Without the glitter to catch in what little light there is, your spark is dulled.

"You're just not used to seeing me without it," you say with a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes.

He lets his head fall to the side, mirroring you. Strands of hair fall over his forehead, obscuring his eyes, tickling at his lashes. You reach over and knock a couple out of the way, trying to disregard the weight of his gaze. Deciding it's impossible, you look back up to the ceiling.

"You saw him tonight?" Jeongguk asks.

All you do is nod, because you're pretty sure you'll cry if you try and speak. The way your lips press together, brows tight above your pitiful eyes is painful to watch. You take a second. Take a breath. Wait for the next question.

"You slept with him?"

Jeongguk feels bad for the leap in questions, but he knows he's getting nods or shakes, and he want to get to the root of why the fuck you're ending your night in his room instead of with the guy you've been hung up on for months. Doesn't know his name. Doesn't care to know it. Thinks he's a prick.

A wallowing sadness sits in his chest when you nod your head, not for himself, but for you. He's never seen you like this. Never knew someone could have so much power over you.

Headstrong is all he's ever known you to be, but he feels like one of the King's men trying to put bloody Humpty Dumpty back together again.

You swallow back the sob that's causing a commotion in your oesophagus, as if the movement doesn't remind you of his hand on your throat.

God, you wish you could just stop thinking about him.

You think it would have hurt less if he'd have taken a knife to it.

Instead, his hands had been so warm and gentle, that you thought it meant he was trying to reclaim the space that used to hold a necklace with his initial.

Jeongguk doesn't want to ask the next question, but knows that as your friend - as a duty of care - he has to.

"Did he..." Jeongguk pauses, unsure of how to phrase in a delicate way.

"No," you finally, say, because you know where it's going. "He didn't hurt me."

"You've been crying," Jeongguk objects.

"Didn't hurt me like that."

He nods, accepting your response. Still has no idea what to fucking say, but he never does around you. S'why he always takes a moment or so. Brain just doesn't work when you're around.

"You wanna talk about it?"

To talk means to cry, and you don't really wanna do that. You glance over to him, and watch the way he's nibbling on his bottom lip, toying with his ring. Eyes still on the ceiling, Jeongguk pretends not to notice. You're both good at that. Pretending.

The silver of his jewellery - his piercings, his thick bracelets, the chain around his neck - just reminds you of the earrings that you're wearing.

They're dainty. Pretty little hoops. Intricate leaves trail around the smooth shape, tiny sparkling stones catching in the light. You'd worn them deliberately. Had hoped he'd notice.

Not Jeongguk. You couldn't really care less for what he did or didn't notice about you.

You'd worn them for Seokjin.

Had been wearing them since he messaged you midweek - I'm in town at the weekend. Will you be around? - and now you kind of want to rip them out.

You'd hoped he would remember the trip you took together to Gyeongju. Your third time visiting the city together; just before autumn was about to settle into the earth, rusted leaves sinking to the ground, like the blossoms during the spring. The cyclic nature of the seasons used to make you smile. 

Just like he did, in the old Hanok where a silversmith crafted twisted hoops in front of your very eyes. He told you he'd buy you the entire store when he finally became a big shot. Settled for a tiny pair of silver hoops, instead.

They're the ones you're wearing now. The ones you hoped he would notice.

But he didn't notice. Not tonight. Not once. Not even when his lips were on your lobes, nor when his hands were on your body, his voice quiet in your ear as he'd told you tall tales about how much he'd missed you.

His voice had been so soothing at the time - "still take me so well, darling" - like aloe on sunburn - "like that. Fuck, darlin', like that" - but you realise now he was just covering you in deep heat. "Uh- shit. You always been this tight? Fuck. You're gonna make me cum so fucking hard."

Only a matter of time until he was scalding your skin all over again. "Shit." Scorching. "I'm there." Tarnishing. "Take it all for me, take it- ugh. Yeah, that's it. Good girl. Good fuckin' girl." Destroying. "Fuck."

And oh, what a scar Kim Seokjin leaves on your skin.

His handprints are warped all over your body. You're red in the wake of his touch, sandpaper palms scrubbing away at the efforts you've made to heal yourself in the past few months. Your cracks are showing again, and you're not wearing any glitter to fill the gaps.

You're broken, and it shows.

You swallow a little harshly, tongue licking your dry lips before biting down on them. Lashline warming again, you simply shrug. His duvet rustles beneath you. "Not much to talk about."

"We both know you wouldn't be here if that was true."

"But it is," you say with a fragile laugh. "He came over, and then-" Your voice cracks. "And then he left."

Should have seen it coming, really. You reap what you sow.

Jeongguk knows you never stay. Learnt it pretty quickly. Didn't ask too many questions about it. Never occurred to him that maybe you'd ever want someone else to stay, instead.

"I... ," you mumble as you try and think of the right words to say. Your cheeks are a little damp, and you know that Jeongguk knows you're crying, even if he isn't looking at you, but what's the point in pretending anymore? "I really thought that it wasn't me, yanno? I thought other people were the issue."

One of the birds he's watching catches on the wings of its neighbour, awkwardly straggling before falling back into position. Jeongguk thinks he should cut them all down.

"What do you mean?"

"The whole..."

When you pause, Jeongguk looks over to you. Your face is a little scrunched up, feeling awkward about such an admission. It makes him laugh how you can appear so pitiful and yet still so classically you. You laugh too, stuttering on your breath, using the back of your palm to dust away some of your tears.

"The whole intimacy thing," you finally continue with a small smile - because if you don't laugh, you will cry. "I thought that other people were the issue; that they didn't compel me to stay. I never once thought that it was me. That I was the issue - but I can't even fucking compel the guy I thought I'd marry one day to stay. It's me. I'm the fucking problem."

You're smiling as you finish talking, but it fades quickly. Withers like the flowers Seokjin had bought you on the evening he'd broken up with you. There's still one pressed between the pages in your journal. Petals plucked. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves-

"You're not a problem," Jeongguk says, eyes hard as they look to his ceiling. His hands are still linked over his stomach, but he's resisting the urge to pace the room. He needs to wrap his head around what you're saying, but can't do it when he's sitting still. Needs to walk in a circle to try and find where the fuck it starts. Doesn't make sense to him how you're blaming yourself for your ex not staying. He chooses not to speak about him, instead trying to help you make sense of why you leave. "You don't stay at the end of your hook-ups 'cause a purpose is served. It's like how you don't stay in a restaurant after you eat your dinner."

"But you do," you say, as you cross your legs and clamber to a seated position. Jeongguk remains in place, and you notice just how perplexed he seems. "You have your dinner, maybe even dessert, and then what? You talk. Enjoy other's company."

He sits now, too. "Okay, maybe it was the wrong analogy-"

"It's not. It's entirely correct. Gguk, I-" you sigh, shoulders lifting to your ears and falling again. Exasperation pollutes your features.

You've given the topic a lot of thought, but never shared your conclusions. It's all a bit daunting.

"You...?" He encourages.

"I never stay, because I never want to give anyone the same power that he had over me. Never want anything more than casual sex, cause it can't hurt me." You voice is bereft, a small pitiful laugh punctuating your words. "How fucking sad is that?"

You're speaking so quietly that all Jeongguk can do is listen as your words slip into in ears and get all jumbled about inside his head. He needs time to reorganise them; to understand what you actually mean.

"I have so many rules and restrictions that it's barely even sex these days, more... a transaction? And yet when Jin messaged me, I fucking folded. Yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir. I..." you tail off, but Jeongguk doesn't push for more.

Just waits till you're ready - and when you are, you speak at such a speed it's almost hard to understand a single thing you're saying.

"I let him fuck me like he still loves me. Do you have any idea what that does to a person? How much it can fuck with their head? I broke down all of my walls, because he used to make me feel so safe and for some reason, I told myself it would be okay - but then you messaged and - fuck."

You look down at your thumbs and shrug, a deep sigh exhaling from your very soul, as if your bones are creaking beneath your skin.

"When you messaged, I woke up and he wasn't fucking there. He'd left. Treated me like how I treat my transactional shags. And I mean, maybe it's my own fault, maybe I deserved it, but fuck. I let him kiss me. I let him... I let him fuck me like he meant it, and then he left as if I meant nothing to him."

By the time you finish venting, Jeongguk looks so bewildered that he actually seems scared. You look back down to where your thumbs are twiddling, shameful of your own emotions. A pitter-patter of tears hit his duvet, and you just let them. You're not crying. Not sobbing, at least. Just tearful. Bamboozled by your own feelings.

Jeongguk's at a loss for what the fuck he's supposed to do.

He's never been the kind to comfort his friends. Isn't really sure how the fuck he's supposed to comfort you. He's no stranger to crying girlfriends - he's had a few of those - but this isn't like that. He can't just kiss it better, not that he'd want to. Be like kissing Jimin at this point, he tells himself.

And either way, it's so unbelievably inappropriate to even think of something like that when you're literally in front of him in tears over another bloke. His mind is just wandering because he's panicking, but oh god, you're crying still and how the fuck do you have so much liquid in your face? Surely you'll wither up? He's not sure he's ever seen a pair of cheeks so wet.

But then you shrug, and sniff back the tears. Purse your lips. Press them together so tight you can't make a sound. And then you look at him and say, "I'm sorry. This is, like, so much. I didn't mean to be such a big fucking cry baby I just-"

"Hey, no," he protests, face contorted with a little disgust. He can't believe you're apologising for this.

Jeongguk's no stranger to a complex. He's got one wrapped around his pretty pink brain like a metal chain, padlocked where his desire to take chances should be. The fear of rejection outweighs any possible good that could come from going after the things he wants - and as he watches the way your smile quivers before it falls into a quiet sob, he knows exactly what his fear is trying to save himself from.

And so he just gently smiles, and says, "it really fucking sucks when the people we love don't love us back."

You nod. "Fucking sucks."

He's only known you for a couple of months. Doesn't know who you were before your ex; only the after. But he quite likes who you are now. Thinks that whatever the fuck that prick put you through is undeserved. Is actually quite angry that he'd fuck you over like that.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, as you dab your face with sweater paws, trying to get rid of the remains of your tears.

He hates that you're apologising again, but he lets you. Knows you'll just say sorry again if he tells you to stop.

"I just didn't wanna be in my room, yanno?" A sob tries to escape, but you catch it just in time. Attagirl. "Fucking smells like him. I'd forgotten about his aftershave -" This is a lie. "- and now I can't get it out of my fucking nose."

Jeongguk grins, and tries a little banter. "Probably a good thing if it masks the way you smell."

"Fuck off," you smile back at him, biting down on your lip to stop it from shaking. "Now's not the time."

And yet you're so glad he's still being normal with you. Not so glad for his next question, but glad for the perspective he's trying to give to the situation.

"Did you at least... yanno?"

Your eyes roll so far back that you can basically see your frontal lobe. Jeongguk is a little horrified by the fact your entire eyeball is bloodshot, and doesn't hide his disgust very well. He tries. Just looks a little constipated when you refocus on him. Makes you laugh.

"Pretended," you admit a little awkwardly, and when Jeongguk's jaw drops, you reach over to close it. "My god, shut up! I didn't want to make him feel bad. If I knew then what I know now-"

"That he's a cunt?"

"-Then maybe I wouldn't have."

You would have. You'd turn water into wine if Seokjin asked you to. Let him drink your blood if a drought pilfered his water supply. Would sacrifice everything to just give him a measly something.

You'll never admit to any of that, though.

Silence simmers between the pair of you. There's not much left to say.

"I'm sorry he left," Jeongguk says, because you deserve an apology and knows you'll never get one from the person who owes it.

"Me too."

He reaches over and ruffles your hair, smiling in that way he does when his dimples form and his lip ring does a little dance. It curves upwards, smiling too.

"You wanna get a shower?" He offers. He's terrible at comforting people, granted, but he's good at thinking of solutions. "Everything here smells different to your apartment. You can get rid of whatever's haunting your nose with my incredibly manly strawberry shower gel."

You laugh, and Jeongguk feels himself relax. Hadn't realised his back had been so tense as he twists his waist to click it. You let yourself fall onto your back again, and into his duvet. "God, how on earth do the girls resist you?"

"They can't. Get a shower, Byeol. I'll make up somewhere for you to sleep, alright?"

You don't question the way he calls you Byeol again. Just let him. Think it's nice, actually.

And like the girls that apparently can't resist him, you can't say no to his instructions.

He shows you to the bathroom, and when you whisper about being worried you'll wake Jimin, Jeongguk shakes his head. "Sleeps like a log after a night out."

There's something incredibly kind about how he shows you which shower gels are his (because apparently he needs three in the shower at all times), and how to change the temperature (but leaves it on his favourite setting because he thinks you'll like it, too). He tells you to wait before you get in, because he's coming back with something - and when he does, you pout.

"So, this is like, my good towel. I don't keep it in here 'cause Jimin'll use it for god knows what, but it's really fluffy," he says, and then insists that you rub it against your cheek. He's not wrong. Might just be the fluffiest towel you've ever encountered. "Unreal, right? Like an actual cloud."

And then despite how gentle he's been, he reverts back to his typical self when he throws a shirt in your face. "For afterwards."

He shuts the door before you can say anything else in response. You just kind of stand there, his shirt looped over your shoulders, laughing softly to yourself, face furrowed in confusion. Jeon Jeongguk might just be the strangest human you've ever met.

But you're also the girl who took a canvas painting of breadfish to his gym, just to get a laugh out of him, so maybe you're well-suited in that regard.

Their shower is far nicer than yours, the water pressure frankly wasted on two boys. Though you wouldn't trade your apartment with Danbi for the world, you considering making future five AM pity calls just for the luxury of a waterfall showerhead.

You use the strawberry shower gel, not because you like it any better than citrus fruits or fresh pine, but mainly because it's the one Jeongguk first mentioned. It's sweet - almost as sweet as your own vanilla one - but still fresh enough to make you feel a little brand new. There's an ache in your heart as you wash your ex's touch from you, and you find yourself sniffing again - but you don't let yourself fall into that trap.

You've cried enough.

And so wrap yourself in Jeongguk's towel, close the lid of their toilet and sit for a while. The clock reads twelve minutes past six. Guilt simmers in your chest, knowing that Jeongguk didn't need to be dealing with you at such a ridiculous time in the morning - but when you reach his bedroom, knocking before you enter to find him organising a mountain of pillows on his floor, you can't help but feel thankful he's the person you reached out to.

It's kinda his fault for texting you at five AM and waking you up, but that's neither here nor there.

"Hey," he smiles as he turns to face you, and tries his hardest to avoid staring at your legs. Your hair is bundled up into his towel, and his shirt fits you like a dress, cutting off midway down your thighs. "Sorry, I just didn't know how many pillows you like? So I just got them all?"

"One is normally fine," you laugh, as you begin to tease your hair through the towel. "Thank you for this, by the way. Incredible towel."

"I told you so," he grins. "Curtains open or closed?"

"Closed?" You question, confused at how it's not an obvious answer - but you don't know that Jeongguk sleeps with them open on Saturday nights to make it easier for him to wake for the gym in the morning.

"Sure you're gonna be comfortable on the floor?" He asks as he reaches over to close the curtains. "I really don't mind taking the floor."

"I'm sure," you nod. "Hardly looks like a floor anymore."

You've a point. He really did it overdo it - but he's not had a sleepover since he was about fourteen. Isn't really sure what the protocol is.

At least, not a sleepover like this.

Nor have you. No time for braiding each other's hair and gossiping about your favourite celebrities, though. You find yourself drifting off almost as soon as you curl up into Jeongguk's expertly crafted pile of pillows. You don't realise, 'cause he doesn't tell you, but he's given you the pillows from his bed, too. They're a little more expensive, better for a good night's sleep.

He reaches to the end of the bed for his good towel. It's a little damp, but not too wet that it would cause any issues as he rolls it up and sticks it beneath his head. Isn't the first time he's used a towel for a pillow, and likely won't be the last. He just kind of thought you needed the comfort of expensive cushions more than he did.

"Sweet dreams, Byeol," he whispers, knowing you're out like a light, but wanting to wish you well regardless. You deserve that at the very least, he thinks.

Unlocking his phone, he cancels his gym alarm, and tosses his phone back down onto his mattress. His room is dark, but he can see the outline of your body, the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist as you adjust ever so slightly.

He's sure that when the morning comes, you'll be a bit embarrassed about it all - but for now, he settles into how comfortable it feels to have you around.

There's nothing intimate about the situation between the pair of you (which is probably why you don't mind staying over) - but when he hears you squeak a little in your sleep, pillows rustling as you move, he kind of gets it. Understands why you wouldn't trust just anyone with your most vulnerable state.

He's just the same; except his fears come in the form of rejection. He never makes it to the intimacy part, because he never deals with the stuff that needs to precede it.

And as he stares up at the shadows of his origami birds, a frown framing his pretty features, he decides you're both absolutely fucked.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

[gooseloverfiction]

Crimson Rush

Colt Seavers x afab!reader +18

It was supposed to be 'chill with some drinks' type of the evening, but nothing is ever so simple with you two...

Warnings: bit of violence, blood, wound... Some blood kink? Or just *urge to lick that bit on your sexy bf*, other than that smuuuut, piv, no protection, fluff and some Colt's goofiness (?)

AN: All thanks to one comment of @bluehody at bts photos from Man's Health mag

Word count: 2512

You really needed that. 

The bar, drinks and karaoke. 

And Colt… 

He was late as always, steaming hot after some run for a few blocks when shots took longer than he anticipated. But he still showed up as he promised. You had to give him that, he would move heaven and earth to get to his date. 

It was almost perfect. 

Except for the bunch of a-holes who wouldn't stop screaming to microphones, some bachelor party going into a mess, ruining your mood as you finally get your hectic schedules aligned for that one outing to have some fun. And you couldn't even sing. 

You downed your drink with a loud gulp, making Colt side-eye you with raised brow. 

“Slow down cowboy, we still have the whole night ahead.”

You rolled your eyes and mumbled something under your breath, showing to the bartender that you wanted the same drink again. 

The warm, scratched hand caught your knee and rubbed soothing circles through the fabric of your jeans. He turned you on the barstool to face him and used his thumb to collect a single, orange drop from the corner of your mouth. You're suddenly too painfully aware you're in public, because you would definitely catch this finger with your lips and suck it, watching Colt's blissful face.

“Don't make those eyes, please…,” he leaned closer to you but it was too loud anyway for anyone to listen. 

“What eyes?” your voice was far from innocent, when your lips ghosted his. 

“OI GIRL, YOU CAN DO MUCH BETTER!”

You looked behind your man and saw drunk guys making some obscene gestures towards you. Colt wanted to turn around and see what it was about but you caught his stubbled chin, pulling him into a hot kiss. With the other hand you showed those guys international sign to fuck themselves and forgot about them once the eager tongue snaked into your mouth, making both of you moan.

Awful noise around you silenced and you managed to pry yourself from Colt much to his disappointment and almost run toward the microphones. Once on the ground, you knew he was right, you definitely went too hard and too fast on those drinks, your world suddenly spinning. 

But before you could entangle yourself in cables around, a strong arm steadied you and the familiar scent made you weak in knees for a moment. When you looked at him, he had his goofy smile plastered to his face, his eyes showing the same amount of affection and drunkenness tho you had to admit he often had this dazed gaze when around you. Drunk with love, as he always said… how cheesy he could be. Colt definitely watched too many romantic comedies. 

“What do you want to sing?” 

You looked at the monitor he rolled in front of you and squinted your eyes. Your finger pushed the list up and a wide grin was instantly on your face. 

“No… Come on… You know how terrible I sing,” he tried to leave you on a tiny stage but your grip on his leather jacket stopped him. 

“Come on baby, no one can sing here. And it's not true, I like your sweet falsetto,” you kissed the tip of his nose and made him huff. 

“You're not making it better,” he growled into your ear sending goosebumps down your neck. 

Using your ultimate weapon, The Pout, made him finally push the play button and grab the microphone. 

A familiar tune started, making you want to snap your fingers to it until Colt's part came, a bit too sudden for him but he quickly caught the tempo. 

“I got chills, they're multiplying

And I'm losing control

'Cause the power you're supplying

It's electrifying (electrifying)” 

You couldn't not break into a laugh for his high pitched voice trying to sound like John Travolta. 

“You better shape up

'Cause I need a man

And my heart is set on you

You better shape up

You better understand

To my heart I must be true”

Colt made a hurt face, flexing his broad shoulders and wordlessly showing his all muscled up stuntman body. You slapped him as he made you break a few notes and he almost forgot to jump into the last line, “Nothin' left, nothin' left for me to do.” 

With the chorus you both were so invested, you didn't hear any commotion except for music around you. 

“You're the one that I want (you are the one I want)

Ooh, ooh, ooh, honey

The one that I want (you are the one I want)

Ooh, ooh, ooh, honey”

Someone stood in front of you, making your voice falter. 

“Oi, cut that crap, give us those mics, we will show you how real men sing.”

The song still played but you stopped and looked at the same assholes from earlier with what you hoped was fearless anger. 

“Oh yeah? And how do you know how real men sing?”

You could hear Colt groan behind you, knowing you were in a ‘making troubles’ mood. 

“Listen bitch…” one of them started but quickly stopped when the stuntman caught his shirt and shook him. 

“What did you say to that lady?” his voice was almost a low growl, making your stomach drop… Not only because of the sense of oncoming fight. Colt was a walking epitome of peacemaker and hardly ever turned into any kind of violence, but God he looked hot like that. 

And then the chaos broke… 

You couldn't even see the fist coming from Colt's left side, only when he ducked and made the punching guy hit his fellow, who was still in your man's grasp. 

Stuntman moved back, turning his body to shield you, pushing you in at the right moment, when the third drunk roared and ran into him, slamming his body into a wall. Colt gut punched him and tried to get away from the attacker, circling him in some almost like dance move. Before the guy could turn, the kick in his ass sent him to the wall and the ground. 

“Guys, guys! It's delicate equipment!” you've heard the bartender's pleading voice and shout to Colt when one of the men picked up the microphone and swung with it. He dropped at the last moment and made the guy tangle in the cables and fall… 

A hard knock to his forehead made Colt stumble to the back, not getting exactly where it came from but before he could take another blow, you screamed and punched the man holding a heavy ashtray, square into his jaw, just like Colt taught you, sending him to the ground. 

You turned to your man swaying on his feet, catching his open jacket and jeans shirt under it, pulling him into an embrace. 

“God Colt, that looks awful…” blood trickled from his busted brow, caught up in his short beard. 

“You were amazing,” he smiled and let you move him toward your seats. 

You called for the bartender and asked for some clean cloth and he reluctantly brought one from the back and looked at you with narrowed eyes. 

“Now pay up and leave before I call the cops… And don't come back…” his tone was more of a pleading but you still huffed in amusement. They're the ones who started it all! 

Colt already put the bill, with some extra ‘for a trouble’, on the counter and headed for the door, pushing balled material into his throbbing head. 

You whisked the keys from his pocket and he didn't protest, going right to the passenger seat in his truck. 

---------------------------------------------------------

“What if it's a concussion?”

“I'll be fine. This is made of concrete,” Colt knocked on his head, wincing with pain. 

"Concrete my ass…” you mumbled and peeled the jacket from his broad shoulders, took off his shirt and reached for his already blood dirty, formerly white t-shirt. 

“I'm sorry, did I miss the moment where it was my fault?” the man asked with a silly smile. He always found you adorable when you were so frustrated and annoyed. 

You took the crimson cloth from him, slowly, not sure what will be behind it. His whole brow was swollen, making his eyelid slightly covering his sparkling, blue eye. It looked bad… 

But there was something mesmerizing in his ash covered, beaten up face, the tiny trickle of blood still coming from the wound. 

“Hon… You have this look again…” he swallowed a bit of a shaky voice, the adrenaline making way for entirely different type of rush in his blood. 

“What look…” your voice dropped into murmur, your face inches from his. “I'm sorry… But you look so hot right now.”

Colt didn't have a time to protest, when you slowly dragged your hot, wet tongue on the side of his face, tasting the metallic trail right up to his wound. He whimpered when your tip lapped not too gently on the cut, your lips trying to soothe the sting. 

You didn't even know when you migrated on his lap, his hands clutching at your flanks. You weren't sure if he shook underneath you because of the pain or pleasure, but his hard bulge digging into your groin gave you some hints. 

With some, not so subtle, moves of your hips you made Colt root into you, the friction definitely too little for your likening. 

“Too many layers…” you groaned into his jaw, nibbling your way to his thick neck. Your hands desperately tried to undo all buttons in his jeans, feeling him doing the same to you. 

Your lips captured Colt's moan when he felt your hand slip past his boxers and fixed his strained cock, taking some pressure of it, teasing his leaking head. 

“Too tight, babe, you need to get rid of them…,” his hands pushed you abruptly and caught the waistband of your jeans, taking them off in one motion, almost ripping his own pants right after. 

Before you could sit back at his lap, he held you by your butt, your knees wide with his muscled thighs between them. 

“What are you…,” you've started but quickly shut up, when Colt slide down the seat, his wide chest pushing your legs even more apart. You brace yourself on the backrest of the couch and swallowed the shout ripped from your throat by stuntman’s skilled mouth attacking your already oversensitive pussy. He licked long strip between your folds, probing your dripping interior, pushing as deep as he could, making you shiver, pulling you closer to his face. His beard scratched but you didn't dare to say a word when he was licking you into oblivion. It felt almost too much when he sucked at your clit but still too little for you to come. 

“Colt, Colt, Colt…” you tried to catch his attention and he stopped middle lick, tongue buried in your core. 

“Whot, whot, whot,” he mumbled, moving his face with your raising body. 

“I need you… All of you…”

You didn't have to tell him twice, being suddenly thrown on your back, your knees pushed to your chest. 

The man above you didn't even play a tease, not even align himself, just impaled your pussy with his thick, veined cock, his heavy balls hitting your exposed butt. 

“Oh…my…Go…” your moan died when he hit your cervix, but before you could feel any real discomfort, Colt moved back a bit and was too eager to keep himself deep long enough. He quickly picked up the pace, his breath uneven, wincing when the sweat from his forehead fall right into the cut on his brow. The salty drops mingled with fresh blood and dropped on your cheek and nose, leaving pink dots there. Feeling around, you caught the sleeve of Colt's t-shirt and gently wiped his face, keeping it for a moment on his injury. 

He leaned into your touch, guiding your legs to hug his hips, pushing your chests together. 

With hands thread through your hair, he kissed you, his moves becoming sloppy and irregular. 

“I'm close baby, are you close?” he huffed into your mouth at one breath between kisses. 

You nodded and then slightly shook your head. You were balancing on the edge for some time now, you just needed something little bit extra. 

“Okay… Okay,” he mumbled and reached with his hand between you. His thumb found your clit right away, the arousal you felt making it impossible to miss. 

You literally shook when he swiped the pad on your nub and before you knew, your pussy clenched his cock, driving it deeper, almost locking it inside. 

Your eyes shot to his swollen brow and you felt almost embarrassed for how this look made you cum immediately. 

Colt, feeling you contracting around him, your mouth letting a string of cut off moans, grunted into your neck, biting it, chasing his own bliss that made you full of his seed in seconds. He rode the high, pushing himself on his locked arms, looking into your eyes. 

He didn't even have to tell you The Big Word. You saw it in his gaze. And you hoped he saw it too in yours. 

With Colt's long puff and sudden cold embracing your sweat covered body, the sudden realization of everything that happened dawned on you. 

“Oh God… Baby, I'm sorry,” you sat quickly, squirming at the cum flowing out of you and strain on your hips. You kneeled next to your man who now tried to catch his breath, wincing at the throbbing pain he suddenly became aware of. 

“What are you sorry for?” he sighed and looked a bit dazed at you fussing around, your hands gently cupping his face. 

“T-this and… you know…” your thumb reached but omitted the swollen part of his face. 

“Your blood kink kicking in?” he chuckled and winced again. 

Your eyes shot wide and you slapped his arm. 

“I don't have a blood kink!”

You left him, rushing to the bathroom for a first aid kit and fresh water in a bowl. 

When you got back to him, Colt managed to just tucked himself back in boxers, the whole day of shooting, the bar fight and your last quite intense session finally crushing down on him. He just hardly registered your gentle hands washing his face, cleaning his wound and putting some steri-strips on the cut to close it. With his injury secured you put his shirt on and helped him untangle from his jeans caught at his ankles and almost dragged him to bed. 

---------------------------------------------------------

“How are you feeling, baby?” you took the glass from him after he swallowed some painkillers and let him pull you to lay on top of his body. He hummed and held you close. 

“Dazed and amazed. You have a nice punch there, Rocky,” you felt him kiss the top of your head and wanting it or not, you let the weariness and lingering alcohol take over you, sleep suddenly heavy on your body. 

Before blacking out, you only mumbled, more to yourself than Colt, “I don't have a blood kink.”